Ill Met by Moonlight
by karrenia
Summary: Xander Harris has a new girl in his life, Banshee from 2nd season of Gargoyles:Animated Series
1. Default Chapter

**Disclaimer:** Buffy: the Vampire Slayer is the creation of Joss Whedon and all related characters,   
concepts, events belong to Mutant Enemy Inc. They are not mine. I am only borrowing them for   
the story. They will be returned in tact afterwards. Takes place sometime near the beginning   
of the current season. At this point I am not taking into account Xander's relationship with Anya.   
This is my first story featuring characters from this particular show, so bear with me.   
Note: Mostly from Xander's point of view. **EMAIL: karrenia_rune@yahoo.com**

** Disclaimer: **Gargoyles belong to Disney and Buena Vista Television. The version of Banshee and   
The Weird Sisters, the concept of the Gathering etc. are from the 2nd season "Hound of Ulster   
episode. Takes place during Goliath's world tour" courtesy of Avalon, via the Phoenix Gate.   


**"Ill Met by Moonlight" by Karen**

Xander Harris glanced at his watch for the at least the 21st time then slumped back onto the   
stone niche formed by a pair of stone lions fronting the entrance to the Quadrangle lecture hall.   
Buffy, Willow, and the new girl in his life, Chloe Webb, had disappeared inside it hours ago   
for a presentation on Joseph Campbell's Man and Myth series. Ordinarily he would have   
gone along, whether or not the lecture was open to the general public, but he had decided he   
had his fill of the paranormal ever since they'd graduated from Sunnydale high school.   
Since Buffy and Willow had become co-eds, they seemed to have less and less time to   
just hang out. 

Xander began peeling at section of plaster that had begun crumbling near the stone lion's mane,   
and thought about how everyone's life had become so wrapped up in the arcane and the supernatural. 

"There was a time, when all we had to worry about were bad hair days and midterms, then   
hanging out at the Bronze. You know? 'Normal' stuff. Then Buffy becomes the   
Chosen One, and we were caught up in a maelstrom of mayhem.   
Without much let up, either. Of course, since Sunnydale sits squarely onto   
of the Hellmouth. Hey, look on the bright side, Xander, you made a difference.   
To hell with Cordelia, anyway. I'm glad she's gone. And speaking of getting rid of things and   
now that Angel's out of the picture. Never did trust him. Never liked him much, either.   
I think everyone has changed in the last several years, and some of it has been for the better.   
Maybe I just don't like too much change too soon." 

Xander peered upwards, only to see more stone figures protruding from the building's roof.   
They clung to the ledge, carved figures in the form of people, animals, or fantastic beasts.   
He squinted in the bright afternoon sunlight to gain a better view, he couldn't be certain,   
but some of them had wings. It seemed to be poised as if holding onto the building by its claws,   
which established a seamless link between building and creature. Picking out more details,   
he noted that the creatures had heavy brows, a beaked nose, and bat- like wings.   
The expressions on their faces ranged from somewhat ferocious to almost like they were laughing   
at some silent joke. A joke which was passed on from one figure to down the row, since they had been arranged in clusters. 

"Okay, guys, what's so laugh out loud, funny up there?" Xander whispered to the stone figures. 

"Xander, love, the way ye're staring one might think ye were counting each chisel mark and crack."   
Chloe's distinctive Irish lilt echoed in his ears and almost made him jump. 

"You startled me." Xander fumbled for his sunglasses. "Did I miss anything?   
What are those things, the ones with wings?" Xander asked, pointing at the roof. 

"They're gargoyles. Long thought to be elaborate waterspouts. They usually took the form of   
elongated fantastic animals. These decorated gutters are often architectural necessities   
turned into ornaments," Chloe replied absently. 

"Did I miss anything?" Xander asked, referring to the presentation. 

"Not really," Chloe sighed. "It's not that important. What you need is a good cup of coffee,   
and then we'll talk." Chloe brushed a lock of shoulder length red hair away from her   
emerald green eyes, and let her gaze wander to the stone figures Xander had pointed out. 

"They do tend to follow you about, if you stare at them too long. I know I've been here for just   
a wee bit, but from what I've seen and heard around here; ye know what they say?   
Stranger things have happened." 

"Yeah. I mean this being the like ground zero for weirdness. I guess I was just bored out here.   
You said something about coffee?" Xander said, brushing a fair amount of dust that clung to   
his long sleeved black polo shirt. He reached up and pulled his red fleece jacket over his head.   
Then tied it around his waist. 

"Aye, I need something cool to wet my whistle. How about you?" Chloe said as she reached   
over to smooth down his mussed hair. 

"Let's go," Xander smiled, getting to his feet, and with his arm in Chloe's they headed   
for the nearest cafe. 

* * *

  
_ Interlude_

Xander held the door Chloe as they arrived and both were washed over by the slightly   
heavy, yet soothing aroma of freshly brewed coffee and freshly baked bread. It gave the building a   
heavy, slightly drowsy feeling. Xander checked the place out and finally decided on a   
booth in the far-left corner of the cafe and sat down. 

"What can I get you folks?" the waitress asked, pad of paper and pen in hand. 

"Iced cappuccino, please," Chloe replied. 

"I'll have the same, and some cherry pie with vanilla ice cream, " Xander said. 

"Regular or Decaf?" she asked. 

"Regular," Xander said. 

"Got it. I'll be right back with your order," the waitress offered, briskly jotting down the   
items requested with a ballpoint pen, then pivoted on her heel to glide over to the counter.   
Xander wondered what it was about college students that made coffee drinking into a social event. 

"What am I missing? Where it is written that I have to go to college. All it means it just   
more books," Xander muttered, arranging the salt and pepper shakers and the vase holding the   
plastic pink carnations, and rearranging all the packets of fake sweeteners and dairy creamers. 

"Xander, ye're crushing the wee things, stop fidgeting., Chloe gently chided, as she placed the   
vase of carnations to one side, out of harm's reach. 

"Okay, okay, but I'm worried about the Buffer, you know, well, it's not that I'm paranoid   
or anything, but why won't she tell us anything about what's going on with that Initiative thing."   


"Maybe it's a co-ed fraternity thing." Chloe muttered, shrugging her slender shoulders   
as the motion caused her red hair to come out the braid, and cascaded down her back like   
liquid flame. It distracted Xander from his glum thoughts about Buffy.   
"Ye've known her for a long time. She's more than capable of taking care of herself. " 

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Xander waved his free hand casually in the air, as if he could wave away   
his concern. "But...." 

"Here's a thought, with the amount of research time ye've put for Mr. Giles, ye could   
always inquire if the university would allow you to audit a few classes instead of   
enrolling as a full time student," Chloe remarked. 

"What?" I was just wondering. Besides I'm happy being a townie," Xander replied. 

"Ah, but ye may find yourself out of the loop every once in a while, Chloe trailed off as the   
waitress returned with their orders. Chloe looked up and thanked her, who returned the gesture   
with an acknowledging nod. 

"Ye ever think about getting the hell out of Dodge," Chloe suddenly asked after the woman had gone   
to serve other customers. 

"Like what? Leaving Sunnydale?" Xander asked. "Maybe we could take a trip to Ireland   
sometime, tour, meet your folks," Xander quipped. 

"We could go just about anywhere." Chloe muttered dreamily, ignoring the comment about   
'meeting the parents'. "Europe, or New York, or...she trailed off. 

_ Later_

"Look, don't think I'm running out on you, but I kinda have to check in with Willow and Buffy at   
Giles' in an hour. " Xander polished off his cherry pie. He took one last sip of his cappuccino.   
Then he took the straw, whipped up the leftover ice cream into it, and ate both together. 

"Not to worry, Xander. I understand," Chloe replied as she held the mug of coffee cupped   
between her two palms. She had long ago finished drinking and was now was just breathing   
in the aroma. 

"How about we meet up later at the Bronze, I'll save the last dance for you. Promise?"   
Xander whispered conspiratorially, then he leaned over and kissed her on the lips. 

"I promise," Chloe whispered then returned the kiss. 

"Catch you later, then," Xander said all in one breath, and headed towards the exit. 

* * *

  
_ Meanwhile_

A skiff with a dragon headed prow bumped its nose up against a wooden pier. The water was tinted silver from the waxing gibbous moon overhead, as its four passengers tried to keep their   
balance as waves splashed over the skiff's sides. 

Goliath, who'd been rowing all night, leaned his tall frame against the tiller and took a breather.   
He glanced over at Elisa, sitting in the middle, whose red leather jacket wasn't enough to keep her   
warm; had her arms wrapped around herself. He felt inclined to wrap his wings around her   
if it would help. Bronx flopped down in the rear; whined softly then waggled his fan shaped ears.   
Angela, who'd been absently stroking the garg-dog, chose that moment to look out over the shoreline. 

Beyond the man-made lake, she saw landscaped carpets of green grass and plazas surrounded   
by buildings repeating the same basic design. Given the time, she only glimpsed a few people   
about, hurrying from one building to the other. One particular building made her recall her home   
on Avalon, and some of which brought back memories of the last place the skiff had brought them to:   
a place called Flagstaff. She wondered, not for the first time, if her father,   
Goliath, truly guided the Phoenix Gate, or if it was the other way around. 

Angela gasped then pointed: "Father, " her voice loud in evening stillness,   
"Unless I am mistaken, has Avalon's magic brought us about in circles. Some of these   
structures look familiar." 

"Okay, where are we now?" Elisa asked in tones that whatever answer she expected,   
she wasn't going to be happy with it. She stood up, and crossed the small gap between the skiff   
and the pier. Bronx leaped after, yipping happily, and almost knocked her off her feet.   
"Whoa, boy," she smiled, but the need for sleep showed in her eyes. 

"I am uncertain, but it reminds me of Flagstaff, Arizona when we helped your sister, Beth..."   
Goliath's deep, resonant voice trailed off. Elisa's sister, Beth attended college, and Elisa's father   
had been called upon to recall old tales from Navajo folklore. All because an old   
enemy of the Manhattan clan had attempted to subvert a Navajo trickster spirit into   
bending to his will. Xanatos had failed, and Coyote had eventually   
aided them, but more for sake of his own amusement then from any altruistic motivation. 

"A college town. You mean we've bypassed Manhattan again?" Elisa replied, as she ran a   
hand through the tangled mass of her black hair. 

"My kingdom for a hairbrush and a bath," she sighed. 

"I am afraid so," Goliath replied, referring to missing Manhattan again. For a minute he fumbled in   
his belt pouch then pulled out the Phoenix Gate. He shook it He tapped with the tip of a claw,   
tracing the grooves worn into its golden surface. 

"I know, Goliath. It's not your fault. I'm just disappointed is all," Elisa replied. 

"I am sorry, Elisa. As you know, Avalon sends the bearer of the Phoenix Gate where we   
need to be, not necessarily, where want to go. " Goliath said, as he Angela crossed   
over to the pier, she tied the skiff to a wooden pole. 

"There, now it won't float away. We still have several hours until dawn, we   
should check this place out, then find somewhere out of the way," 

Elisa heard someone shouting in the distance. 

"I guess that's our cue, let's go." Elisa smiled and headed off in the direction the shouts   
had come from. 

Bronx ears pricked up and he bounded off, right on Elisa's heels. Pausing near a park bench,   
he sat on his haunches, and let off a howl at the moon, then continued to lope after her.   
Angela and Goliath following along in their wake. 

* * *

  
That same evening, Xander half ran, half walked along the streets, searching for Chloe.   
Ever since she'd failed to show up at the Bronze, he'd become worried. She hadn't left word   
with Willow or Buffy, and the messages he'd left on her answering machine at her   
dorm, had never been returned. 

Have become frantic, and not wait for Buffy to detour from her nightly patrol.,   
Xander had decided to conduct his own search.   
_ I suppose I should be grateful, a lot less vamp activity._

"Chloe!" "Chloe!" He kept yelling her name for several minutes at stretch, pausing every   
now and again, hoping for a reply. He knew she occasionally went running late in the evening,   
since moonlight did wonders for her skin. But even so, this wasn't like her.   
He blocked out the noise coming from nearby residences, and cars passing by on the street. 

__

Even for a Thursday evening, not too much activity in town, which, I suppose is a good thing.   
He made another circuit of Chloe's known haunts, and then back tracked his own route, only   
to arrive back at the campus grounds. 

Instead of hearing the echo his own voice, what he heard was a drawn out howling.   
"_Note to self: less caffeine intake_," he absently thought. 

"Okay, Oz isn't in cycle yet, so that can't be him. So, what's with the howling?" Xander muttered to himself. 

The next thing he knew, he was lying flat on his back on the grass, with a rather large dog like   
creature leaning on his chest. Its paws, but only four toes, and claws. In a flash, he connected the   
creature with those he'd seen on the roof of the lecture hall. "_What are the odds?"_   
_____ 

"What have you found, boy?" a woman's voice asked. The first had been a rich tenor, the second   
slightly an octave below that. The first: a black woman, looked 'normal' enough. She wore   
denim jeans and a faded, much mended red T-shirt, with a black leather coat over it. Oddly enough,   
she had a .38 caliber pistol in her hip pocket. 

The second woman's skin was almost purple, and she wore her brown hair in a tight braid. 

The creature on top of him wagged its fan shaped stubby tail and proceeded to give him a face   
washing by slobbering all over it. 

"Great, just great," Xander groaned, "I look for Chloe and instead I find some creature that   
has a yen for sitting on people, and slowly smothering them to death. What have they been feeding   
this guy, anyway?" 

"I think it's okay, you can let him up now," the first woman said. 

"Elisa, we cannot be certain of that," the male replied. 

"Trust me on this one, Goliath. Just call it woman's intuition." the woman they'd called Elisa grinned. 

The dog creature whined, but backed off to crouch at Elisa's feet, who reached down and   
rubbed his spiny head. "Good boy, Bronx." 

"Bronx?" Xander muttered, patting himself down for injuries, the thing had been heavy.   
Whose tail wagging achieved new levels in frenzy. 

****   
The next thing Xander knew, he was hovering about 5 feet off the ground, in the grip of the large   
male creature. 

He stood almost eight feet high and looked kinda purple in the moonlight. The cape that draped   
from the thing's back did not look detachable, and were probably wings.   
_What did Chloe call those things again,? Damn, why can't I remember? _

The creature pulled him directly into his line of sight, forcing him to make eye contact.   
Its eyes blazed white. "Who are you? And what is this place?" 

"No way, Mister. I'm not answering any questions till I find out who you are," Xander countered. 

"I am Goliath, you've already 'met' Bronx, that is Angela, and Elisa." 

"Fair enough. The name's Xander Harris." 

"Xander?" Elisa wondered, arching an elegant black eyebrow. 

"Great. It's short for Alexander. Welcome to Sunnydale, hope you survive the experience, its pretty   
wild here. Could you put me down? While some people might enjoy the sensation, it's hard to talk   
and choke at the same time." 

"Very well," Goliath replied, letting go of Xander's collar. 

Xander rocked back on his heels, to avoid keeling over, and fumbled for bit, trying to regain his balance. _Boy, do I look dumb here_ he absently thought..   
"So, what are you guys doing here?" he said aloud. 

"That will be revealed in due course," Goliath replied. 

"Wonderful. Since you don't seem to have any pressing engagements at the   
moment, would you mind helping me find someone. That's what I'm doing out   
here, I'm searching for a friend. Her name's Chloe Webb. She's gone missing since late this afternoon." 

"We'd be happy too, I'm sort of expert on missing persons," Elisa smiled.   
"What does she look like?" 

"Red-head, green eyes, about 5"6, last seen wearing a faded denims and a black leather jacket   
kinda like yours," Xander replied. 

"If you had something of hers, a scarf, a comb, anything. Bronx could then use that to lock   
onto her scent. It would make finding her much easier," Angela said. 

"Let me see, " Xander fumbled around in his pockets, and came up with one   
of Buffy's wooden stakes, no help there, a disc for an e-book that Willow wanted   
him to read, and finally, one of Chloe's green and white bandannas she'd given   
him on their first date, and book with a dried, and pressed rose.   
"Okay, this might work," Xander said, holding out the bandanna to Angela. 

Angela took the faded piece of fabric, then bent over and waved it around   
in the general vicinity of Bronx's nose. He sniffed at in, then whined. He looked   
up at her, scuffed his forepaws into the dirt. Then he lifted himself up on to his haunches and let loose with another piercing howl. 

"I think he doesn't know...." Xander began as he was forced to cover his ears. 

Bronx then went off to the east, and everyone followed along in his wake. 

"What did Chloe say? 'Stranger things have happened,' Yeah, tell me about it,"   
Xander griped, forced to alternately walk and then run in order to keep up with the odd group.   
"We'd better find her. _In a place like this... definitely don't go there, Xander, you may not like_   
_ what you find_." he thought to himself. 

* * *

_ Elsewhere_

"Isn't this exciting Luna? It begins again," Selene gasped breathlessly. 

"We have waited half a millennia, Sister, we can wait a little longer," Luna replied as   
she tugged at her coil of wild of silver hair. She leaned over and gave an experimental tug on   
the woven length of rope that secured the skiff from Avalon to its mooring. 

She sniffed at it, at first, all she could find where the scents of woven hemp material,   
wrinkling her nose at the damp smell of where the fibers had rotted through from   
exposure to salt water. In addition to that were the distinctive scents of three gargoyles and   
one human female. "Avalon's magic has been at work again, Sisters," Luna said, straightening up. 

"Indeed, the portents have never been more favorable. However, if may be so bold. I wish to   
express a concern. How certain are you, Phoebe, that this is the place where we will find She who   
defied the will of the Lord of Avalon?" the third member of the trio asked, her long hair falling   
down her back. Its raven sheen glistening in the starlight. 

"Calm yourself, Selene," Luna advised. 

"She is stubborn, and may prove difficult to persuade. As these mortals are fond of turns of phrase,   
perhaps it would be proper to use a method I have found quite effective," the other woman remarked. 

"Would you mind enlightening the rest of us, Phoebe"? Luna snorted delicately. 

"I believe they call it an intervention," Phoebe smiled, brushing back her blonde hair. 

"Excellent. We were assigned this task, yet the methods we would choose to employ   
were left up to our discretion," Luna smiled, a vague thinning of her lips. "We shall proceed." 

* * *

  
_ Confrontation_

Xander cursed under his breath when he tripped over the exposed root of a massive oak tree.   
He had privately thought they'd been running in circles as they followed Bronx who was hot on   
the trail of Chloe. But he'd kept it to himself, since Elisa had made several guarantees that   
once Bronx had a scent; it wouldn't be long till they found whatever it was he went after.   
Recovering his balance, he bumped his head on an over arching limb. Angela turned around   
and offered him a hand up without meaning to, she lost her grip and pointed towards the central   
fountain in the park he'd already searched. The moon overhead was nothing more than a sliver of a crescent with a ridge of cloud banked against its curving tines. 

Goliath dropped to all fours and growled something that to Xander sounded like the   
rumbling of distant thunder. _This can't be good_ he absently thought. 

Shaking his head to clear the fogginess from lack of sleep and running around in the middle of   
the night, he nearly blacked out again, when he saw what had made Angela stand rock still. 

"The Weird Sisters," Goliath growled. 

Hovering above the jetting sprays of water from the fountain, were three women, they had   
their fists clenched on their hips, and their thin lips pursed in identical disapproving frowns.   
They wore long white gowns, and they could have been triplets, except for the color of their   
hair. As he looked closer, they weren't even aware of the new arrivals, for standing atop.   
a slope leading up to the residential areas. Chloe engaged in defiantly squaring off against a trio of women.   
silver bolts of energy bursting like roman candle firecrackers from her fingertips, her hair   
glistening in the moonlight. 

Chloe's green eyes blinked once, then twice in rapid succession. When she lifted her head   
again the green had been replaced with a red flicker. 

"Sister, if your stubbornness and pride not gotten in the way of your better judgement,   
this 'intervention'' would not have been necessary, but we must need resort to desperate   
measures," Selene said. 

"Sister, you overstep your bounds, know this, consider this, had you been in my place   
would you have complied with the Lord of Avalon's and returned thither? Mortals believe   
in free will, what matter the Gathering delayed a few more centuries?" Banshee shrugged. 

"What the hell is going on here. I finally meet a nice girl, and she's got all the classic signs of being   
some kind of vamp or something? Would someone please clue me in here," Xander demanded,   
but was ignored. Just then he was forced several paces back as a stray energy bolt ricocheted   
off some sort of invisible force field and would have successfully fried him. Goliath spread his   
wings and took the brunt of the blast. 

"Uh, thanks, big guy," Xander said. 

"You are welcome," Goliath replied. 

"Xander!," Banshee cried, turning to face him, the red glow replaced by green.   


"Ware! They interlopers are not welcome!" Luna shouted. She spun around in midair, and flung   
an arm out perpendicular to the ground, ready to unleash some devastating energy blast, but   
whatever would have happened was cut short, as Bronx sprung towards her and knocked her   
sprawling to the ground. 

"Wretched mongrel, " Luna muttered, snapping her fingers and Bronx went hurtling through the air. 

"That's what I'd like to know, too." Elisa shrugged out of her leather jacket and tied it around   
her waist. 

"Banshee, the bean sidhe, woman of the fairies as she was called in the old tongue of Ireland.   
I had thought after the defeat you suffered at our hands with the help of the boy..."   
Goliath shouted to be heard over the arguing. 

"The Banshee? Come on, Goliath, you've gotta be putting me on, I mean, those, uh,   
ladies, haveta to have under some kind of spell, right?" Xander protested. 

"Goliath, I remember you, I'll thank you, name me not, the boy in whose mortal shell dwells   
the soul of Eire's greatest hero," Chloe shouted. 

"If not for the great Beast," raising a sharp nailed hand, she gestured towards Bronx,   
" the boy would have lived and died a mortal never realizing his true destiny as   
Cuchlain, the Hound of Ulster." 

"Okay, right about now, I wish Giles was here to give the pertinent mythological play-by-play,"   
Xander muttered to Elisa, who stood beside him. 

"Who's Giles?" Elisa whispered back, confused, wondering what bizarre impulse guided the   
Phoenix Gate. After everything they'd been through, she wished, just once, they could   
order the magical artifact to take them directly back to Manhattan without any   
detours along the way. 

"It is not we whose reach has exceeded our grasp, dear Banshee, it is you. For you have   
meddled in affairs that are none of your concern, i.e.: the fortunes of Eire, and sought   
to prevent the return of the Ireland's greatest hero, Cuchulain from returning.   
You failed. The gargoyles saw to that," Phoebe said. 

"Or have you forgotten," Angela countered. 

"Nay, I have not. The sting of defeat however bitter, I have long since put behind me.   
Was it fate or by design that brought you hither?" Banshee turned to face the gargoyles. 

"In our last encounter, I told you the truth when I said that were sent here by Avalon's magic,   
but we have no agenda from anyone called Oberon," Goliath replied. 

"We never even met the guy," Elisa added. 

"What matters that they are here, dear sister, " Luna interrupted. "Consider this, the Greeks had   
a word for it, hubris, pride, and you Banshee, dear, are guilty of it, not only in defying the will of   
Lord Oberon, but of preventing it; merely to hold onto what little dominion you had left." 

"I will not go back, and despite your best attempts, you cannot make me leave!   
I like it here," Banshee replied.   
"The Gathering only comes around every 500 years, it can wait a little longer." 

"Yeah, "Elisa said, glancing around the park, "Just like that old peat bog, who'd   
want to leave all this?" 

"What means your presence here," Phoebe asked. 

"Enough! My voice can seduce or memorize, or bring pain beyond imagining. I will not be   
taken by force! For when the Banshee keens, humans die!" With that her mouth opened as   
wide as it would go, and a deafening screech issued forth which repeated itself   
over and over. 

The Weird Sisters fluttered to the ground like swans diving into a lake, and   
after staggering for a moment to regain their balance, they whipped their arms up,   
the speed of the motion causing their sleeves to roll up to reveal milky white skin,   
and delicate shoulders. The fabric of their white dresses white as opal. They began   
chanting in what sounded like Latin, and when they finished Chloe/Banshee brought her   
hands to her mouth trying to remove a metal wire mesh gag. Banshee frantically tugged   
at the gag, but it was made of iron, which caused blood to spurt from her fingers. 

"Ready to listen to our proposition now, Sister?" Luna smirked. 

Banshee nodded her head, unable to speak with the iron gag over her mouth. 

"We have been watching you, biding our time, and as you know, this was originally about   
the Gathering. But that is no longer pertinent. What matters, is your fascination with these   
mortals," Luna snorted, and gestured to the small crowd of observers.   


"As I mentioned, mortals call it an i_ntervention; _when someone is a danger to themselves   
or others, and for one reason or another refuses to confront it. Thus, our mission. You have a choice, Sister, return with us to Avalon, and remain a Child of Avalon, or...." Selene said. 

"Or, rescind your powers, if you truly love 'humans',   
Luna wrinkled her nose in distaste, as if at some foul odor, and remain among them." 

"Goliath, that isn't much of a choice. What do you think she will do?" Elisa whispered. 

"I can not be sure, if Banshee is at all like Puck, she will not go quietly," Goliath replied. 

Banshee bowed her head, causing her red hair to fall over her eyes, and crossed her   
arms over her chest. Luna snapped her fingers and the iron mesh vanished. "Your answer." 

"Okay, they've won, I don't see why they have to be so smug about it," Xander said. 

"I accept your proposition," Banshee replied. "I will remain here." 

"You have made your choice, sister, and now you must live with it," Selene said,   
as she linked arms with the other two women and began chanting in Latin, rattling   
off something that rhymed, then using the tips of the fingers of their right hands. A glowing white sphere arced towards that Banshee. She was enveloped in it for   
a few heart stopping seconds, and when it cleared, Chloe had taken her place,   
dressed in the same ripped denim jeans and silk shirt she had on she'd worn during   
their date at the coffee shop. She smiled, then collapsed in heap. Xander glanced   
around at the others, seeing that no one else was going to do it; he rushed over   
and wrapped her in his red fleece jacket. "Is it over?" he whispered.   
Chloe lifted her head and shared with him the same brilliant smile he'd fallen in love with   
when he'd first met her "My old life is over, my new one is just beginning.". 

"I can handle that," he returned her brilliant smile. 

"And now we too, must return to our journey," Goliath added.   


* * *

  
_Conclusion_

Xander lounged comfortably on couch in his basement den, and contemplated his next move   
on the game board he and Chloe had set up after she'd crashed for the night. Chloe had left   
around 9am for her first class. 

It wasn't helping that Buffy, restless after a night spent patrolling, and coming up empty,   
peered over his shoulder, and made comments about strategy and maneuvers. Since she   
hadn't made any remarks about his choice of women, he wasn't going to ask her about   
Riley or the Initiative, since she'd also hadn't managed to get close enough to find any   
more about it, than it was some kind of military outfit. She had also managed to drag Giles   
and Willow out of bed and brought them over to his place. 

"I've heard of legends of the Banshee, but I thought it was just a spirit that keened   
when someone was about to die," Willow said, she sat down on the opposite side   
of the board, seeing an gambit, she picked up the black castle and moved diagonally   
along the marble surface. Xander groaned as she took out his rook. Xander frowned   
and moved his white queen a few paces and put the king in check. 

"Told you so," Buffy grinned. 

"You did not, so there," Xander grinned.   


""However, I've managed to dig up some material which indicates that the Banshee once took   
upon herself the pain of an entire family, the despair and suffering and condensed them   
into a single cry of lament. She forecast deaths but also births. In modern times, the   
Banshee is feared but no longer respected," Giles said. 

"In other words she lost her reputation as a prophetess and guardian, now she's   
more a messenger of death, "Willow replied. 

"There's one thing I don't understand," Xander interrupted, "Don't look at me like that,   
aware of the raised eyebrows he got from Buffy, 

"Why did Chloe come to Sunnydale?" Buffy asked. 

"It's gonna sound corny but I think that she really wanted to start over,   
atone for her 'wicked' past," Xander replied. 

"Kinda like turning over a 'new leaf'," Buffy interrupted, putting thought into action   
she overturned the chess board, causing the black and white pieces to go flying   
in all different directions. Xander glared at her, and "Why did you have to go and   
do that, I was actually winning here." 

"And these gargoyles?" Giles asked, rocking too far forward in his chair, and toppled   
over. Grinning, he stood up and dusted himself off, his interest in an apparently   
heretofore-unmonitored race of humanoids that all his years with the Watchers had   
never run across grabbing his attention. 

"Chloe wouldn't fill me in on the details, but somehow, they've encountered one   
another before, and she got her butt kicked. Which made her realize that it   
may harder to be good, as opposed to 'evil', but in order to come full circle,   
she just needed an extra push, an incentive." Xander smiled. 

" Indeed. What happens now?" Giles asked. 

"Don't know. We kinda agreed to take things one day at a time."   
"Don't you people have somewhere to be?" Xander said, as Willow helped   
him pick up the scattered chess pieces and reset the board. 

* * *

  



	2. Common Ground, Breaking Ground

****

Disclaimer: Gargoyles: the Animated Series and all related characters, events, and concepts belong to Disney and Buena Vista Television, No money is made from this. 

This will reference events from the second season two-part episode season finale "The Gathering." David Xanatos, Owen Burnett (aka Puck) and Alexander are not mine; they are only borrowed for the story.

****

Disclaimer: Buffy: the Vampire Slayer is the creation of Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy Inc, and the WB network. All related characters, concepts, events are the property of their respective creators, and do not belong to me.

Note: This is the sequel to "_Ill Met by Moonlight_." and will pick up shortly after where that story left off, although with a good interval taken into account. g

**"Common Ground, Breaking Ground" by Karen**

__

Manhattan, New York, present day

David Xanatos had his attention focused on the computer screen in front of him. He looked up and acknowledged his presence with a wave of one hand. "In a moment, Owen." he said by way of greeting his aide, and went back to adding up the expense account records with meticulous attention to detail. The man did not tolerate mistakes, even in himself. He also preferred to think of his office as his Inner Sanctum. Sanctum. He closed the books with a soft thump and stretched his arms to relieve the stiffness. "Owen, have you had the chance to review the blueprints submitted last week by the contractors?" Xanatos asked. 

"Yes, Sir. I assume they were meant for the scheduled renevation of Castle Wyvern which sits atop our gleaming edifice," Owen added, moving forward to take the chair across the desk from his boss. 

"That had to be postponed due our last family reunion," Xanatos grinned, his dark eyes narrowed in mingled amusement and seriousness. "Do you have any idea how much repairing the damage done to the Eyrie Building by Oberon alone, is going to set me back. In the back of his mind, "Not to mention, how much that damn security system itself cost."

"Most vexing, Sir," Owen said with a remarkably straight face, his hands folded one over the other in his lap.

"Have you spoken to our tenants?" Xanatos asked.

"Actually, Yes. They were out on patrol, except for Hudson, and Bronx," 

Owen replied.

"That is to be expected How did they take the news?"

"To sum it up, Hudson was his usual self: Taciturn, polite, but not very forthcoming. I did not bother to consult the gargoyles' watchdog, " Owen managed to sound smug, "It would just earn me a face-washing, however well-intentioned."

"Hah!" Xanatos laughed, "Owen, I think you just made your first joke."

Owen winced, creating shallow lines to crease his forehead. "Was I making a joke?"

"The place is falling down around their ears, but I assume it must feel like home. After all the castle does date from the 10th century. Maybe they prefer it that way."

"We will just have to wait Goliath and the others return from their nightly patrol," Xanatos agreed. 

"Well, never mind that. I'll worry about money another time," Xanatos shook his head. "I know that look on your face, you came here to discuss something important, what is it?"

"That does lead into what I wished to discuss with you," Owen began.

"If you recall, several months past, before you declared a truce with Goliath for saving the life of your son, Alexander."

"Owen," Xanatos began, a warning note in his voice.

"I'm getting there. We received warnings of the unexplained absence of Goliath, Angela, and human woman, Detective Elisa Maza. I find it highly unlikely that would just suddenly disappear and then reappear as if nothing ever happened."

"I was not completely unaware of the situation. After all, Goliath and his Phoenix Gate, allowed him to travel through time. What was your term for it, 'most vexing. How that gargoyle managed to be in the right place at the right time to thwart some of more brilliant plans, is still beyond me," Xanatos shook his in mingled admiration and frustration.

"Indeed, Sir," Owen replied, folding his arms across his chest. "Well, it seems that one of these side trips involved a place called Sunnydale, California. There they met a girl whose destiny is to be the defender against the supernatural creatures of the dark and arcane. It seems, a young man there encountered the Goliath, and his daughter, Angela, and somehow or became involved in adventure which involved one of the children of Oberon, the Banshee." My sources tell me that the Weird Sisters confronted her and the Banshee was banned from Avalon," Owen finished. He clenched his fists to his sides and wondered if she had been given a choice, like he had, to give up ever returning to Avalon and being cut off from the source of his magic, as the Puck, by staying among mortals. . In truth, Owen Burnett was not even real person, only a identity adopted by the renegade dark elf. The same one whom the Immortal Bard, Shakespeare made the star of his play " _A Midsummer's Night Dream, _the one called Puck.

"What with Oberon summoning all the Children of Avalon back to the isle, forcibly, in some cases," Xanatos trailed, thinking back to only a few short weeks ago when he'd had to defend his home and his family from Oberon. "All right, I want this matter probed into deeper. I want you to take Alexander with you, and fly out on the next available flight."

"Won't your wife, ahem" be a trifle upset?" Owen asked, arching an eyebrow.

"Let me worry about her," Xanatos. "I'm intrigued about this mystery. It might be a completely unrelated event, or it might lead into something more. In any case, find out and give me the full report upon your return. That will be all."

"As you say, Sir," Owen replied, getting up in one smooth motion and headed for the door that lead down to the lower floors of the building. 

***

__

Sunnydale, present day

It was already morning from the sunlight streaming in through the half-open window of the first floor house, when the diesel truck backfired sounding as loud and startling to Xander Harris as a gunshot. If he hadn't already downed his morning cup of coffee, that he would certainly have woken him up. As it was, he nearly dropped the coffee mug onto the floor of the kitchen. A little of the hot liquid sloshed onto the counter, and he absently cleaned it up with a dishrag that had been draped over the sink fixtures. That done, he went into the living room and glanced over to where a sleeping bag was spread over the sofa. He sat down in the chair next to the sofa and patted the outline of the form underneath the covering, to wake up Chloe.

To his surprise, no one was there. He glanced at the grandfather clock in one corner of the room, where it leaned up against the wall. In the back of his mind

Just as he was about to call out her name, he heard the water running in the shower, a liquid gurgle and mixed in the sound of running water he could also hear her singing to herself. He leaned back in the leather seat of the chair and tried to make out the words of whatever song. Chloe sang as she rubbed in the shampoo into her red hair; her voice ranged from a mid tenor and just shading into a low soprano. Xander wondered if she should be surprised that she had such a nice singing voice. It sounded like stones being skipped over the surface of a lake causing concentric ripples to spread out in every direction, then faded away. Her voice swooped like wind in the leaves, going up and down the musical scale. 

"Why do all supernatural, scratch that, former supernatural beings get up so early?" Xander muttered to himself, getting to his feet and putting on the clothes that he had set out the night before. He found them exactly where he had left them draped over a chair. "Let's review: My best friend's are the Slayer, her Watcher, who probably is like the local expert on all things arcane, and a Wiccan witch. I'm dating the Banshee. Do I just have some sort of magnetic attraction to the supernatural, like a magnet drawn to a lodestone, or what?"

He had just tied the laces on his shoes when Chloe came out, her red hair dripping wet and wrapped in a terry cloth towel.

"What were you singing?" Xander asked, trying not to stare, and ended up blushing.

"An old melody, one that doesn't really have lyrics," Chloe replied. "It's been used in variety of ballads down through the centuries."

"You're in a good mood," Xander said.

"Why shouldn't I be?" Chloe replied, shrugging, the movement sending her red hair rippling down her back in a wet shiver. Xander turned around, giving her time to get dried and dressed, and tossed her a pair of baggy sweats and jeans from the pile of clean clothes that he'd managed to find time to wash. 

"You know, I've been thinking," Xander said. "I think we need to talk. I mean, uh, we never really talked about what went down in that park."

"Hmm," Chloe murmured coming over to sit beside him and leaned into him, he put his arm around her shoulders. "I was wondering when you'd get around to that."

"Thinking is dangerous, love. It will get you into trouble the same amount time that not thinking something through will trip ye up and then you'd end up rushing headlong into peril."

"Like I said, maybe we should talk about our relationship," Xander began.

"I figured you'd be the one to bring it up," Chloe replied.

"Is your magic gone?" Xander asked. "How much do you remember about what happened?"

"You mean the fight with the Weird Sisters," Chloe nodded. "I willnae lie to you, Xander. I wish I could see that it's all a blank, that I can't remember anything." She wrapped her arms around herself like she was trying to give herself a hug, so looked a lot younger and more vulnerable in that position then he had ever remembered her look before. "Everything, and it hurts a little, but the feeling will pass eventually."

"There's one thing, I don't understand, and that's why you keep calling those three women weird, okay, they were strange and kind of creepy and all that but the weirdness is just…." Xander said.

"It's word borrowed from the Old Norse word for charm, or spell because it was also associated with magic and with dragons. It was given as a title to those three coven sisters because their magic was so powerful and even more so when they became wardens at the gateway to the Isle of Avalon," Chloe said.

Xander blinked a few times, and nodded. "Pretending I'm following all that, what happens now? I think we should start with our living arrangements. As posh as by subterranean accommodations are, I don't think we can keep up this co-habitation forever."

"You're probably right, and what's wrong with your subterranean accommodations?" Chloe asked, getting up to get ice cream and chocolate sauce out of the refrigerator and poured it into a bowl, then she came back into the living room.

"Uh, it's a basement," Xander replied.

"So, I used to live in a peat bog, so I would call a basement moving up in the world," Chloe laughed, spooning up bit of the ice cream and chocolate mixture and gulped it down.

"You're kidding?" Xander laughed, as a ring of chocolate became smeared all over her lips. "Maybe we should talk to Giles about this."

"Good idea, Xander, I know it's only been a few weeks, but there's something else we need to get Giles' advice on. It's a strange feeling, and one I've never felt before. I'm not sure how to put this.." Chloe trailed off.

"What is it? Come on, tell me. I'm sure that whatever it is, we can work it out together," Xander becoming concerned.

"Well, I think, no, scratch that, I think I may be….pregnant?" Chloe said, dropping the spoon into the bowl and holding her hand over her middle.

Xander just stared at her hand resting at her mid section. He stared like a landed fish in shock for a minute, then toppled forward, off the couch and onto the floor, then and he blacked out.

"Xander?" Chloe stood up in one smooth motion and went over to him, She placed her hand on his throat where she could feel his pulse beat slowly. She pulled back onto the sofa and waited until he regained consciousness.

"No, I'm okay, really," Xander said when the shock wore off. "Let's go talk to Giles."

**

Giles opened the door after the doorbell had rung about six times, he was mildly surprised to find both Xander and Chloe standing on the other side of the door. He was taken aback for only a second, and then escorted them inside. He had tea steeped already and poured them each a cup. He then sat them down at the wooden table that served double duty for eating and for research. Giles shoved the accumulating pile of books both mundane and arcane in nature, to one side.

"To what do I owe this honor?" Giles asked in his crisp British accent.

"We need to talk." Chloe and Xander said simultaneously.

"Of course," Giles replied.

"Well, it's like this." Xander began, "We were talking and about stuff, and our relationship and living arrangements, and one thing lead to another, and sooner or later before you knew it.."

"Is something wrong?" Giles asked, concerned. "Take deep breaths, Xander."

"No, I wouldn't exactly call it wrong, but we need some advice, and I figure you being the older and wiser one, that maybe you be the best person to help us with this," Xander said doing as instructed.

"It's just that, I don't know who to go to about this, and I know that we probably should have had more closure or more explanation after what happened during the "Do you miss having your magic?" Xander asked.

"It's not gone, it's just less than it was now that I've been cut off from the source, and having to relearn what it means to be mortal and live among them," Chloe replied.

"Oh, dear" Giles said. "

"I may be mistaken about this, but I think I'm pregnant," Chloe said. "And I don't believe it was something I ate."

"What?" Giles said.

"She's having a baby," Xander said.

"I heard her." How did this happen? No, and before you say anything else, I know how the natural process works, thank you." Giles sighed. "I don't even know where to begin on the implications of a mate between a mortal and a supernatural creature. Although it's not without precedent. Let's say, for the sake of argument that Chloe is having a baby, I'm more concerned with the long term implications of this. Neither of your are ready to be parents, are you?" Giles glanced over at each of them, and looked in their eyes, Xander's were wide with mingled fear and anticipation, his darks eyes reflected a great deal of determination, more than he had for a while now Chloe sat in her chair and idly stirred the tea leaves in her cup, her red hair had come loose from the braid she had it up in, and it covered her green eyes, they were wide but the expression was one of excitement and confusion.

"We're more worried about if the baby will be born with magic. Xander said.

"Twill be too early to tell," Chloe said. 

"There are ways to test for it, but we may have to wait until tomorrow morning, so we can take Chloe to a doctor. In the meantime, they are several sources I would like to consult. It's late. Chloe, where are you staying?" Giles asked, standing up and began to make a circuit around the table.

"With Xander," Chloe replied.

"Hmm, I think you should stay here for now, Xander you can bunk on the couch, Chloe can have the spare bedroom upstairs." We'll talk more tomorrow morning." Giles said.

"Are you going to tell the others?" Xander asked.

"Until we know for sure, I would advise you wait on that," Giles said, distracted.

"Okay," Chloe and Xander nodded.

**

Meanwhile, Owen Burnett stepped out the rented stretch limo that pulled up outside the entrance of the fancy but slightly shabby hotel that his boss had booked reservations for both him, and his ward, young Master Alexander Xanatos. His employer had been most adamant that Alexander accompany him on this mission, and being a dutiful and loyal aide, he had complied. To look at it, no one would took any notice of this man. He tall, thin, with sandy brown hair, and wire-rim glasses. He wore tweed suit and brown loafers. All in all, a person who would be just another face in the crowd, someone designed to blend in, to be present, and who could his presence felt when it was absolutely necessary, and then make it count. 

Down through the millennia, mortals had always intrigued Puck. They certainly were more entertaining than his own kind, and so he had offered a choice to David Xanatos, multimillionaire and adventurer, one wish from the Puck, or a lifetime of service from Owen. To his lasting surprise, Xanatos chose Owen, and thus he found himself here now. Of course, the situation was a little more complicated then that; and circumstances of the past few years found Puck exiled from the homeland of his people, cast out of Avalon. All this meant was that his magic was weaker, but he had enough to work a few spells and tutor young Master Alexander in the arcane arts. 

Owen looked around. Failing to seeing anyone else who could be either watching or listening, he rattled off a few phrases in Latin and for a brief eye blink the every-man clothes fell away, and in their place were a tunic of white linen and around his waist was a silver belt held clasped together by a gold belt carved in the form of a dragon. Silver dust sparkled on his fingers. He sighed, and then reached inside the still open door of the limo, and pulled a 9 month-year old out. The boy had sandy brown hair like his mother, Fox, and his father's dark brown eyes. "So much fuss over you, little one," he whispered and with that stepped inside the hotel, where the clerk at the front desk confirmed his reservation, checked the both in, and then handed him the keys to his room. With a glance and a nod to the bellhops. They took his luggage from the limo and led them up the stairs to the fourth floor.

Once there, they left his bags on the floor by the bed, and left. Owen set the boy down on the bed, where he promptly fell asleep. Owen looked at him for a moment, and then with a snap of his fingers and a fall of silver dust, he saw the golden magical aura that surrounded the baby. All living beings gave off a magical energy aura in the visible spectrum of colors; some were brighter and clearer to see with his magical sight. The boy's a gold shot through with orange sparks. He snapped his fingers again, and Owen Burnett went to his own rest in the other double bed. Morning would be soon enough to begin his investigations as well as check out the jobs site that Xanatos was had outsourced to begin construction of medieval castle. "Nothing's going to happen until then," he sighed, and fell asleep.

**

__

Meanwhile

Jarrod Anderson moved across the construction yard with his hard hat dangling from one hand by its strap, and the other shoved in his pocket, acknowledging the greetings from the other members of his early morning shift crew. Reaching the scaffolding they had raised on the east side of the crumbling castle wall. He figured that this was the reason he had gone into construction in the first place. He had loved climbing trees as a child, and being raised high above the ground, with the wind saying the his platform perch, and the wind in his hair; was worth all the extra hours and sweaty manual labor. Jarrod stuck his hardhat on his head, grabbed a rung of the wooden ladder and began climbing. He kept going up and up, one hand after another. Finally reaching the top of the scaffolding, he moved over to the side of the wall, and began to carefully check for the cracks in the mortar, where the plaster that he laid down the night before had failed to settle. He moved over to where he had left the trench filled with concrete along with the brush to spread it evenly. He bent down and tried to remove the brush from the trench, but the concrete had hardened, and he had to twist and back forth by force, before it would come loose with a popping sound.

He began to get into the task at hand with a rhythmic motion and kept whistling. He was so absorbed in the job, that it did not even register as the wooden ladder creaked and footsteps came up behind him. When it did occur to him that someone else was present, he slowly began to turn around, he could only see an outline and figure dressed in jeans and a hooded gray windbreaker; their face covered in cloth to keep out the dust. Just as he was about to open his mouth to ask what was wrong, the stranger thrust out his arms and pushed off the scaffolding in the other direction then he had come from. Falling, his arms wind-milling, and it all happened so quickly, he didn't even time to scream before he hit the ground below will a dull thud, and it was over, just like that. He last conscious thought before blackness took him was "At least I finished the job."

  


***

__

Later

The foreman of the construction crew came forward, his hardhat off-center on his grizzled hair, his overalls covered in dust and chalk. "Dardnest thing, I could have sworn that the scaffolding was up to code. Climbed it myself only this morning."  


"Did you check it before Jarred Anderson went up there this morning?" Chloe asked.

"Was it an accident or was it deliberate? Buffy interrupted.

"Could it be the work of the Initiative?" Xander wondered.

"Beats me," Buffy replied, "But I wouldn't put it past them, especially if they thought the kid had been turned by one of the vamps."

"Seen Spike around lately," Xander muttered. 

"I know you don't like him, but he's still got that chip in his head, so he's not that much of a threat. And he's taken a shine to Dawn, it's almost as if he's protective of her," Buffy said.

"Okay, okay," Xander replied, "Point taken, but I still don't have to like it."

"Who did the funding come from?" Chloe asked the foreman.

"Don't rightly know," the man said, "But why don't we go into my office there," he indicated a traveling van, "and I'll look it up for you. If I recall, it was some big muckety-muck wealthy man out of New York." the man added after a moment. "You with the police?" he asked, suddenly suspicious. "We took the contracting job 'cause it paid well, and and no questions asked. The guy had a really weird name, sound Greek or maybe Russian. Never could tell."

"Greek?" Chloe raised one eyebrow.

"Yeah," the man replied, nodding his head.

Xander and Buffy exchanged significant glances. In the back of her mind, she turned the pieces of this over and over, some refused to fit where she rightly felt they should belong. For one thing, okay so it wasn't a local job. But New York, that was 2000 miles away and all the way across the country. What would some wealthy bigshot like that want with a small operation in the middle of nowhere in California. Something about this picture didn't fit, and she was damned if she wasn't going to get the bottom of it.

"It'll come to me in a sec," he continued. "Wait a minute, I got his business card right here in my pocket," he dropped the hardhat and plunged his hand into one of the many pockets, and rummaged around for a bit, as Buffy was forced into an impatient tapping of one foot on the hard-packed ground of the construction site. He finally pulled out a rather crumpled and sorry-looking white business card; and written on it in elegant red letters were the words: Xanatos Enterprises, LLC. Manhattan, New York, NY. The Eyrie Building. 

"To answer your question," Buffy said, "No, we're not with the police. But we are concerned with finding out what happened to cause this boy's death. If you could loan that card maybe we'll be closer to find out what really happened here," she finished.

"Glad to oblige," the man immediately replied, handing over the crumpled paper rectangle. "Here you go. If that's all you need, I'll be getting back to work." 

He left and adjusted his hard hat as he walked away in the direction he'd come from.

They watched him disappear from sight as he rounded the corner of the partially restored outer wall of the castle. Unknown to them, Owen Burnett dropped his disguise and retrieved Alexander from the grass that lined the bottom off the wall.

"The Banshee is enjoying being mortal far too much. That I expected, but there's a peculiar aura that smothers this place, the majority of it is positive, but there's an undercurrent of evil. The blond girl, who is she? And why is she so interested in what appears to be nothing more than a case of industrial sabotage? Mr. Jerrod Anderson's death, while regrettable, is hardly a moment of concern for a group of co-eds. Hmm, curio user and curio user."

***

"What now?" Xander asked as they walked away from the construction site, and away from the noise of sawing, pile drivers, and other heavy machinery and manual labor.

"We find out who's responsible for that kid's death," Buffy said.

"How?" Chloe asked.

"I'll go out on patrol, I may even pay that snitch at the bar a visit and pump him for information," Buffy answered, distracted her mind already racing through different plans, randomly selecting and discarding one after another.

"I want you and Chloe to check with Willow and get her up to speed with what's happened. Once you do, we'll all met up with Giles at the Magic Shop," Buffy stated.

"Okay, sounds like a plan," Xander nodded.

**

__

Elsewhere

Chloe and Xander went over to Willow's place. "Willow?" Chloe said, as she stepped inside the dorm room, shutting the door behind her.

"Chloe. What are you doing here?" Willow asked, surprise in her voice.

"I told her a little bit about your wicked Wiccan talents," Xander said, by way of introduction.

"Yes," Willow said, intrigued in spite of her initial suspicions, but offered her a seat and "What do you need?"

"This is going to sound pretty strange, and I know that we really don't know each other that well," Chole trailed off, shaking her head and wondering at the last minute, if she even had the right to be asking favors of strangers, especially one that was Xander's closest friend. 

"Maybe we should explain," Xander said.

"Okay," Willow nodded.

"Buffy's on patrol, but she sent us over here for some magical searching," Xander said.

"If Buffy's okay with it, then so am I," Willow said.

"Well, there's this guy that's been working at my jobsite, and only this morning when he was climbing on the scaffolding, he fell to his death," Xander said.

"We've already ruled out that it was an accident," Chloe added. 

"Foul play," Willow finished.

****

**

Willow sat cross-legged on the carpet of her dorm room with her hands in her lap.

The lights had been dimmed to almost nothing, and the only light came from a series of candles placed strategically around the room. Chloe sat facing opposite her, in the same position. Xander went over to one side of the room and made himself comfortable on Willow's futon, that was folded up into its daytime position as a sofa, trying to rein in his impatience while they performed the spell.

"If we're going to do this, we'd better do it right," Willow said, reaching across the center of the improvised circle and grasped the other woman's hands in her own. "Now repeat after me_, 'Hear me, help me, Holy One. My witch life has just begun. I dedicate myself to Thee; My faith shall be fierce and free./Make me worthy, make me wise. Liberate me from all lies. Guide me in they Goddess light. Illuminate each dark night. I light the candle, I taste the wine. I purify the air with incense fine. I make the pentagram with my knife, I declare my witchhood with my life._

I offer myself in naked truth. Grant me wisdom and the joy of youth. Upon thy altar my soul is bare. I leave myself in thy loving care.'"

"We're thinking that by doing a spirit summoning spell, we can find out what caused the boy's death, and maybe the will allow his spirit to rest in peace," Chloe said.

"Around here?" Willow asked, blowing her limp red hair out of her eyes. "I was being rhetorical. All right, I'll help, here's what we do first." and began sketching out the steps necessary to perform the spell on a piece of stationery that she had lying on her desk.

__

Chloe poured some more incense into its holder and its pungent but savory scent wafted around the circle and around the room. Without knowing how she know, she recalled that it would purify a home in preparation for a visit from the ancestors. She wanted to find just what had killed this boy, and all they had was a lock of his chair, that she had placed into box next to four carved gourds she had picked up at the Magic Shop. The Mexicans had used them for centuries, and in their language they were called 'calveras' or skull. They could be into talismans that paved the way for a successful spirit contact. In the circle she placed each of the gourds at the four cardinal points. Incense was a blend of lavender, cinnamon, and wormwood. The blend would create a portal to and from the spirit world. On either side of the incense, she placed to white candles and two small mirrors to reflect the light from the candles, back to the portal. She knew it would serve as a protective device to keep out harmful spirits from crossing over.

Willow nodded and signaled that all was in readiness; _"Speak this charm:_

"Open wide the portal this night. For Spirits whose countenance shines bright;

Entities of love who wish us well."

A wind with no easily recognizable source blew through the room. Chloe chanted the incantation as instructed, in a rhythmic breathing of inhales and exhales as she tried to wrap her mind around the required state of being that would allow the magic to work.

Moments later, inside the small doorway created by the candles, the circle grew bigger. The spirit glowed Jerrod Anderson appeared, his ghostly form almost transparent, "Taken before my time, I guess in death it's the same I was in life, a nobody, the man who expendable whenever the company needed someone to take the fall," the ghost laughed, 'get it? Fall. Well, never mind, " the ghost was about to add more, but whatever it was he would have added, was lost as the gateway between this world and the spirit world sealed shut.

__

"Wow, what a head rush," Willow sighed.

**

__

Later

Xander walked over and glanced at both girls, then at the computer screen

Willow sat in front of the rather beat-up but still serviceable computer 

in the Magic Shop, and typed in the address for the Sunnydale city morgue. She wondered at all the weirdness that had come into their lives because of either being friends with the Slayer or just the set of circumstances that surrounded people as the result of living in Sunnydale; it was like a magnet for the supernatural. "I'm probably one of the few people around here who have this bookmarked as a favorite on my lists." She drummed her fingers on the mouse pad and waited while the computer whirred and clicked before finally come up with a list of possible matches from the data she had entered on the dead boy.

"So, his death was deliberate then?" Xander asked.

"Definitely," Willow replied, and rocked back in her chair, 'See that," Willow thumbed the section of the computer screen that displayed the vital statistics of one Jarrod Anderson, age 26, unfortunately late of Sunnydale, CA. According to the coroner's report, cause of death was a from the fall and breaking his neck. In their professional opinion, he shouldn't have been climbing up around there because he was subject to vertigo."

"Xander, can you tell us anything else about him. Did have a fear of heights, or any medical condition that would make him lose his balance and fall off?" Willow asked.

"I really don't know," Xander. "I mean, I'd see him around, but I never really had much to do with him."

"I never thought I'd live to see the day that magic and technology would work in harmony," Chloe sighed.

"It's all magic," Willow said, "The two aren't mutually exclusive."

"As someone as should know," Chloe shrugged, 'Energy is energy, whether generated by science or by sorcery.' Speaking of which, Willow, I had no idea your talent for magic was this focused."

"Hmm," Willow couldn't help blushing, "It might have something to do with living in this town."

"I just had a thought," Xander said, fishing out the crinkled business card. "Here, get out of this site and do a search for this Xanatos Enterprises. I mean, if they were the ones funding the castle construction project, then they must be involved somehow."

"All right," Willow replied, taking the business card.

"Is Xanatos a corporation or a person?" she asked as her fingers ran over the keyboard, she hit the search button and waited until the results came up on the screen.

"Oh, he's most definitely a person," Chloe muttered under her breath. In the back of her mind, she was beginning to see the outlines a series of random incidents, not that she believed in fate or destiny, but the pieces of the puzzle were beginning to fall into place.

"That's odd," Xander replied. As a the graphic loaded on the site and the first thing that caught their attention were the crumbling ruins of a authentic Medieval castle perched atop one the tallest skyscrapers that they had ever seen. The caption underneath the picture read" The Eyre Building."

"Okay, if this head honcho provided the funding to restore that old castle project of yours," Willow began, and rubbed her forehead . "Why anyone would want to build a castle here is beyond me. Why sabotage their own project?" 

"Maybe they decided to pull the plug on the funding, and just hadn't got word around to the people they contracted to do the actual work," Xander answered.

Xander looked at the clock on the computer, "We'd better get going, Buffy expecting us to rendezvous at the Magic Shop in another half hour, and we'll compare notes on what we've found."

"I'll just straighten up here, and then we'll go," Willow replied.

****

Encounter

__

Later

Chloe entered the grove, a feeling of space and stillness surrounded her, like soaring upward, and structure. It was similar to half-constructed cathedral that was still in the building stages, but that had been built by nature and not by the hand of man. She could feel a pressure and force surging up from deep within herself.

"I've been expecting you," Owen said by way of greeting.

"Is that David Xanatos?" Willow asked. "And why does he have a baby with him?"

"A baby?" Xander wondered.

"No," Chloe replied, narrowing her green eyes. "That's his henchman. Puck, or Owen Burnett, or whatever you want to call yourself. What happened her between myself, the gargoyles, and the Weird Sisters, is none of your business, nor that of your boss."

"I beg to differ, Madam," Owen replied, not in the least taken aback by her hostile glare.

"What concerns the Manhattan clan of gargoyles is very much the business of Mr. Xanatos," Owen replied, folding his arms across his chest. "However, we have far more grave matters to concern ourselves with at the moment, do we not?"

"What are you talking about?" Willow wondered.

"If I may venture to hazard a guess, the dead boy," Giles said.

Owen nodded. "Mortals are so much fun."

"Could someone clue me in here," Buffy interrupted, "Who is this guy, and what did he mean, that we were expected here in this grove?"

"Oh, hello, I didn't even you standing there," Owen said, crossing the stretch of grassy slope that separated them. "Where are my manners tonight, Allow me to introduce myself. Owen Burnett, but to those with more than mortal sight, like your Wicca friend over there. She no doubt sees me in my true guise, that of the dark elf, Puck."

"Come again?" Buffy asked.

"Oh very well," Owen snapped. "Children these days; zero respect for their elders. Owen Burnett, and my ward here, is Master Alexander Xanatos. He held up one finger in a cautionary pose, and pressed it to her mouth, "Wait, don't tell me, you must be the Slayer, Buffy Summers?"

"Yeah?" Buffy replied, knocking him aside. "I've had enough of the Q & A," Buffy shouted, "I say we take this guy out and ask questions later." Buffy said.

"As for the boy's death, quite tragic, in its way, but we were not the ones responsible," Owen stated, picking himself off the ground and dusting himself off. "It seems our competitors were rather disgruntled about not earning the contract, and attempted a little industrial sabotage, and poor Mr. Anderson suffered the consequences."

"We are in stitches at your wit, Puck. However, some of us do not have time to play your games. What is it you really want?" Chloe demanded.

"Ask her," Owen simply replied, gesturing with left hand at Chloe.

"Chloe?" Buffy turned to the other woman.

Owen snapped his fingers, the air around their little group filling with a silver aura and suddenly his suit and tie dropped away to reveal a slender man with pointed ears and robes.

"Puck, you're acting on your own now," Chloe said, moving until she was only steps away from him and stared directly into his eyes. ."Yuir enjoying this entirely too much."

****

"I must admit, I had some inklings that you were part of the reason that the Phoenix Gate sent Goliath and his entourage to Sunnydale that last time, and the Weird Sisters came here to summon you back to Avalon for the Gathering." Puck/Owen explained.

Outside their inner circle of two, the others in the grove tensed as they could sense the battle of wills between the two as they stared one another down. Xander could feel it, and wondered when the face off would end, like lightning about to strike. He glanced around at their trees in the grove, and wondered if they get out of the open, because he recalled something about trees not being a could place to stand when a storm was about to hit. He was jolted out of his thoughts, when a crack appeared in the ground where the two stood. 

The stranger that Chloe had named Puck, back-pedaled and leaned up against a boulder in the ground. The world stilled and when he senses of sound and light returned. He rubbed his eyes, and stared out into the grove.

Chloe knelt in deep grass. A man stood in front of her, dressed from head to foot in armor, except that it's body was covered in ivy leaves. All were the same verdant color, and the plated scales of the armor made it difficult to tell were one left off and the other began. From one gauntleted hand, it held a sword in a tight grip. Between the slits in its visor, Chloe could make out a fit crimson glitter.

"I'll take it on," Buffy said, gliding forward with a confident stride, prepared to stake the creature through the heart as if it were a vampire. Her forward motion was halted as she ran smack into an invisible shield made entirely of air. "What the hell?"

"No disrespect intended, after all, you are the Slayer," Owen said. "But this fight belongs to the Banshee."

"It's some kind of a demon" Giles wondered.

"Not a demon," Owen replied. "It's the Green Man. No one's ever quite pinned down exactly what he is."

Meanwhile, Puck was chanting in Latin and wrapping stone and grass into a sword. He finished, stood up, and placed the sword, cutting edge facing him, into Chloe's hand. "You might need this," he said and moved out range of the coming fight.

"This is my fight," Chloe whispered, moving away from the others, blocking out an extraneous thoughts or feelings, and tried not to worry about the fact that all she had to rely on this fight were her memories and her now human skills.

She grunted from the weight of the sword, and raised it level with the ground. She tapped the tip of the blade to the earth under her feet, and to the trunks of the trees. Knowing without, knowing how she remembered that all elemental powers were interconnected. Taking a deep breath, Chloe summoned all the resolve and strength that she could muster, and faced the creature, waiting for it to make its opening move.

When it came, he lumbered forward like a bear emerging from its den; oddly graceful for all it's seeming bulk, building up momentum as it came towards her. Their blades met with a ringing sound of metal on metal. Chloe handled her with her right hand, using her center of balance to stay on her feet, and avoid being knocked over by sheer muscle of the Green Man.

She danced out o range, using the length of her sword to aim darting cuts at the Green Man. His longer, more powerful arms hammering away at her sword. Chloe parried with the flat of her blade, using the cross guard to block and occasionally lock up the hilt of her opponent's. He hacked at her torso, tearing a long gash through fabric and flesh. Pivoting on her heels, she narrowly avoided another slash aimed at her ribs. The Green Man was bigger and stronger, so would just have to be smarter and faster.

The Green Man did not bleed, when a blow landed, instead of her now red human blood, it leaked sap like the life-blood of a tree. Xander could see rents in the thing's armor like the trunk of a tree bleeding sap under an axe blow.

Chloe followed up, gasping for breath, and staggering as her strength gave out, she sucked in a lungful of air, and rallied, knowing that she couldn't afford to lose this fight. She collected herself to run at the creature, her sword level with where the creature's helmeted head met his shoulders, and ran for all she was worth. Chloe smote the head fell on the Green Man, swept past that larger blade, and separated its head from its body. 

She was knocked off her feet and feel in a helpless sprawl about ten feet away. She lost her grip on her sword, as a ringing sound was the last thing she heard. She was exhausted and hurt, and didn't even care as the sword crumbled into dust along with the creature she had fought.

***

When she awoke, she a circle of concerned faces standing around her, and Xander shaking and shaking her. "Is it over?" she whispered.

"It's over," Xander smiled, helping her to a sitting position on the soft dew-wet grass.

"Is it gone?" Chloe gasped.

"If you mean that creature," Buffy said, in mingled surprise and admiration, "Yeah, it sunk back into the ground right after you took its head."

"What about the other two?" Willow asked.

"Long gone," Giles replied, taking stock of their surroundings."

"Good riddance," Chloe said, spitting out a tooth.

"I'm just glad it's over, and things can go back to business as usual," Willow smiled,' Well, relatively speaking, anyways."

"Speaking of relatives," Xander interrupted, "Warn me ahead of time, whenever any of yours plan on making surprise visits," Xander muttered under his breath.

"Promise," Chloe whispered. "Let's get out of here."

"You'll get no arguments from me," Buffy smiled as they walked away from the grove and left it to its silence. 

****


	3. Reckless (Chapter 3)

****

Disclaimer: Buffy: the Vampire Slayer is the creation of Joss Whedon, the WB, Mutant Enemy, and their related producers and creators. All characters, events, and concepts belong to their creators, and do not belong to me. You know the drill,; and no money is made, purely for entertainment purposes.

****

2nd: Gargoyles: the Animated Series is the property of Disney Studios and Buena Vista Television, Goliath, Hudson, Elisa, Brooklyn, Broadway, Angela, Demona, Robyn Canmore, and the rest of the characters that appear in the story are the property of their creators and producers, and do not belong to me.

****

Author's Note: References to the three part episode "The Hunters'" from the second season. Robyn Canmore is one of three Hunters that survived, apart from her brothers: John, who changed it to John Castaway and founded the Quarrymen; and Jason, who reformed. 

Follows: Common Ground, Breaking Ground. Again, a good interval is taken into account.

**Reckless ** by Karen

__

Prologue

Xander, his hand tightly holding onto Chloe's elbow, guided her footsteps up the stairs the fifth floor of their apartment building. They walked down the hallway, and when they came to their door of their apartment; he paused long enough to shuffle around in his pockets until he emerged with the keys. He unlocked the door and removed the silk scarf they had used as a blindfold. It was dark, and Chloe half-expected Xander to turn on the lights, when she nearly collapsed back into his arms, when she noticed movement in the living room, and suddenly a loud shout went up: "Surprise!" 

Someone turned on the lights, and Dawn, Willow, Tara, and Giles trying to blend into the paint of the mural hanging on the wall, emerged from their hiding places behind the cream-colored sofa.

"If I am not mistaken, traditional ceremonies like these, or baby showers, are supposed to be held before the baby is born, not after," Giles said.

"I know, but we're not that much for following tradition," Xander replied.

"What have you decided for a name," Giles asked, cradling the small infant with its mop of tangled brown curls and intense brown eyes. He rocked the baby on his knee as she reached out a small hand to gently yank on the frames of his glasses. Giles unsuccessfully tried to coax the baby girl into exploring other items on his person, for instance the baby pacifier and the bottle of formula. Of all the duties he had anticipated performing since accepting the position as the Slayer's Watcher, even though he no longer officially held that title anymore; by extent, he felt a certain responsibility for the entire group. He had not anticipated to fill the role of Watcher, confidant, and surrogate father to the entire group, let alone this most recent addition. But here he was, playing grandfather to a child. On one hand, it made him feel older than his 40-odd years. On the other hand, he wondered what he would do if he'd been the father. Well, it was too late to worry about that.

"Her name is Christabel Zoe Harris," Xander answered.

"We really thought it was going to be a boy," Dawn said. "And if anybody had bothered to ask me, which they didn't, I think they should have gone with Kendall or Colin."

"Now that the baby is here," Willow murmured, "Uhm. I'm not really sure how to put this, but are you guys going to get married?"

"We really haven't thought that far ahead," Chloe. "I suppose that would be the next logical step." Turning her attention to her daughter, Chloe rubbed her hand through her tangled red curls, and considered this small person: It appeared that her daughter's features: the dark hair, and dark eyes, and the snub of a nose were almost identical to Xander's, except all duplicated in miniature. "Which," she thought, "is probably a good thing." "Christabel." Chloe said, a note of reproval in her voice.

At the sound of her name, the baby sat up, wriggled around, and crawled over to Willow, who immediately picked her up and settled her onto her lap. Willow began running her fingers through the tangled brown strands, trying to bring some order to them. The baby cooed and then fell asleep.

Meanwhile, Tara went into the kitchen and brought out a platter of crackers and cheese, and with Tara's help opened up and passed around lemon flavored wine spritzers. "It's time to open the presents.'

"Oh." Dawn said. "How much of this were you in on?" turning to Chloe.

"I figured I would leave the decisions up to them," Chloe replied. "It's my first time."

"It's weird," Xander said. "When she first told me we were going to have a baby, I freaked, and then I fainted. Not necessarily in that order."

"Don't feel bad, " Willow said. "I guess all guys react that way," Tara added.

"There's one thing I still don't understand," Dawn added.

"Yes?' Giles asked.

"Why didn't they tell us when they knew for sure that Chloe was pregnant?" Dawn asked.

"I wasn't sure," Chloe trailed off. "I didn't know how." She shrugged. "I'm sorry. I

guess I'm still not very good at this sort of thing." Sitting on the sectional sofa beside Xander and unwrapped each present as it was handed to her. Christabel had taken a shine to the colorful wrapping paper that Chloe had removed from the presents and, sprawled flat on her stomach.

Because Willow and Tara were the brains behind the operation, she unwrapped their presents first. They pair had chipped in and bought a car-seat upholstered in blue and purple fabric, it's handle painted the same shade. Giles had given them an antique silver cup, and on it's surface he had engraved Christabel's name. Dawn's present was a card and envelope with money inside of it. It was extravagant, and she'd agonized for weeks over exactly the right gift to buy, but the sentiment and the personalized note she'd written in the margins, felt expressed what she wanted to convey far better than a store-bought gift.

"It's the thought that counts," Chloe whispered, getting to her feet, and giving Dawn a hug. "Thank you, Dawn. Thank you, everyone." She hadn't realized how much human emotions could overwhelm a person, or how they much they meant to people. Her green eyes shimmered. "How can I be happy and sad at the same time.? She thought, and then pushed it to the back of her mind.

"You know, most of the gifts are for her, but at this age, she'd be just as content with the wrapping paper and the cardboard boxes," Giles said, watching her assembled the ribbons and paper into separate piles.

"I really wish Buffy could have come," Xander said, watching Chloe open the presents and Christabel gather up the discards.

"She's on patrol," Giles replied. 

"Willow and I should really get going if we expect to make our evening lecture," Tara said.

"Hope you enjoyed the party, but it's late and we really should be going," Willow added.

"You see, Chloe wants me to become a co-ed along with the rest of you," Xander replied.

"You are actually going to attend college? Willow asked.

"It's never too late to start." Besides, she thinks it's good for me," Xander added.

"But I'm probably going to need help."

"You could always find a competent daycare facility. I believe that they have one on campus. Although, I am unfamiliar with the system used by American college campuses; I believe they are geared more for students majoring in that field to have a practical hands-on experience," Giles said.

"Isn't Christabel a little young for that sort of thing?" Chloe asked.

"Not really, but you should check their references, " Giles said.

"How are we going to afford something like that?" Xander asked. 

"I've done some checking into that, luv." Chloe said. "You could always apply for financial aid. In the meantime, I was thinking about applying for a job at your construction company. They have a position open for a trainee in blueprint drafting."

Xander almost choked on his lemon spritzer, and was only able to swallow down the mouthful of lemon flavored liquid when Willow came up behind him and gave him a few swift whacks on his back. "You what?"

"Hmm, working together at the same company, this could prove interesting," Willow said. "Keep me posted, " Willow added as she gave Xander and Chloe a hug.

"Do you mind babysitting, Dawn? I don't know how much time I'll have to take care of her." Xander said.

"We'll pay you," Chloe added. "Although, I wouldn't want to miss classes or other social activities. "

Dawn stared at the wall mural for a few minutes, than it gradually clicked, that she being asked to accept a task that involved responsibility for another human life, other than her own. They trusted with an adult job, something payment for a service. As these thoughts were going through her head, she realized that everyone was staring at her expectantly; she nodded and brushed back the strands of ash-blond hair that kept getting into her eyes: "OK, I'll do it.. "

***

Interlude

Midnight. Buffy sprinted across the fifty yards of blacktop that separated the train yard from the cemetery. Covering the distance in record time, she paused to take stock of her surroundings and check for potential hostiles. The night air was cool on her flushed face, and she was running high on adrenaline rush, scanning her surroundings for any signs of vampire activity. She allowed her shoulders to slump a bit when no creatures of the night made their presence known, or jumped out hiding to take a stab at her. 

Turning on her heels, Buffy back-tracked on her own route, and figured she would make another sweep of the area, just for the sake of a job well done. Despite what Giles might think, she took her job as the Slayer seriously, and wouldn't be caught with settling for half-measures during one of her nightly patrols.

Turning the corner, that led into the public park, Buffy stopped to catch her breath, her hands resting on her knees, and sucking in chill, but refreshing night air. She walked over to a nearby park bench, and tilted her head back, until her blond hair cascaded down her back. She looked straight up into the velvet black sky, where the first stars were coming out. It was a glorious night, when her sense sharpened, and she could faintly hear the echoes of an eerie howl, almost but not quite like that of a wolf; but it sound too high-pitched to be a wolf. "What the hell was that?" she muttered aloud to herself. Just that instant, Buffy glanced up at the moon, only a quarter full, and could have sworn she glimpsed the silhouette of wings gliding across the surface of the moon.

"Better be getting back," Buffy decided. "Want to ask Giles about what I saw."

Scene 4 _Interlude_

Meanwhile, a hammering at her door woke Dawn from a drowsy half-sleep. She rolled over and glanced at the glass-fronted surface of the antique clock resting on the fireplace mantel; her mother had picked it up at one of the galleries she used to work for. Thinking of her mother, always made her sad, even though she knew that she was gone; it still hurt sometimes to see these reminders of their mother all around her.

Each time, it just hurt too much. She' cried out all the tears left in her and she just wanted to hide. 

Buffy had told her she had to be strong, that she had to let go, and move on. That was all right for Buffy, she was the strong one. She was the Slayer, but sometimes it felt like for Dawn, she was all by herself. 

Dawn stood up and made sure that Christabel was sleeping peacefully in her carrier.

It wouldn't do, that now that she'd been entrusted with this new responsibility, to blow it. In the back of her mind, "About time, everyone stop treating me like a kid. I'm not made of glass. I won't shatter into a thousand pieces if I'm dropped on the floor." Then again…."

Dawn went to the front door, responding to the insistent and somewhat demanding knocking, her homework lying sprawled in a pile on the coffee table. She peered through the spy hole and saw a red-headed woman, dressed in a tight-fitting business suit, that by some coincidence, matched exactly the shade of her hair. She could have been either a entrepreneur running late for a emergency midnight emergency session, or a super-model in search of a photo shoot; Dawn didn't want to take any chances. "Who are you?" Dawn demanded, her voice trembling.

"Dominque Destine." the strange woman replied.

"What do you want?"

"Thank you, my dear. Might I trouble you for use of your phone?" she asked.

"I'm not supposed to open the door to strangers," Dawn replied.

"Excellent precaution, " the woman said. "I can appreciate when young modern woman have been properly raised."

"I guess, it would be okay, just one quick call," Dawn replied, detecting a faint foreign accent, and guessing it was French from the name supplied by the strange woman.

The woman nodded and walked in, Dawn pointed to the phone hanging on its hook in the living room wall, and decided she would look in on the baby while the woman made her phone call.

The baby was sound asleep, and Dawn resumed her position on the sofa, relaxing into a half-alert doze, pretending not to listen in on the woman's conversation, while trying not to make it obvious that she was eavesdropping. She'd be in trouble if she was making a long distance call to somewhere everyone spoke French or some other language, but the woman was speaking in English.

***"I've been delayed, reschedule the board meeting for another week. It does not matter if they board of directors grumble and complain; they will simply have to wait until I can turn my attention to them. Please arrange it." *** Dawn heard the woman say, and then the click as the phone was replaced back in its cradle. 

**

"Thank you for allowing me to use your phone, I've misplaced mine. I couldn't find a phone anywhere, " Mrs. Destine said. "I hate to impose, but might I rest here for a bit, I promise not to be any trouble. It's just pouring out there, and I'd like to regroup before heading out there again."

"Sure," Dawn shrugged. "What do you do?"

"I'm here on business, and I run my own company. It sometimes seems is that when I'm gone, nothing gets done right." I'm sorry, where are my manners, we were never even properly introduced." You are?" Domnique sat down in the leather reclining chair.

"Dawn Summers." 

" A lovely name."

"What company are you with?" Dawn asked, thinking that maybe she be paying more attention to her current events class, or watching more news.

"How inquisitive. I admire that trait in the young. It's rather sad that in this age of technology, many of our young are in over their heads in errant nonsense." Dominque said.

"I'm not stupid,' Dawn shouted.

"No child," she soothed. " "Just these few minutes with you, I could determine that. And to answer your original question; I've started up my own company, Nightstone Unlimited. In the beginning, it was a partnership, in the early days. However, I now run the company."

"What happened to your partner?" Dawn asked. "Where is the company headquarters?"

"We're based out of New York. "As for my partner, it's a shame, really," Domnique replied. "He met with an unfortunate accident, and was no longer able to help run the company."

"Oh,"

"T feel like I've known you forever, even though we've never met before this, " Domnique said.

"All the same, tell me about yourself."

"Not much to tell,' Dawn shrugged, blowing off the question.

"I'm in high school, I have an older sister, and I just lost my mother." End of story."

"Hmm, " Dominque tapped her one well manicured fingernail on the armrest of her chair. "Dawn, have you ever given any thought to what you want to be when you grow up, or better put, what you'll do once you graduate from high school?"

"I guess not," Dawn shrugged. "I mean, most of the kids I know here in Sunnydale, don't think they'll ever get out of this town."

"What if I could offer you an alternative?"

Dawn narrowed her eyes, thinking she that there must be some ulterior motive to the offer, subconciscously sensing something not quite right and dangerous about Dominque, but she couldn't put her finger on exactly what it was that was bothering her. She shoved it to the back of her mind, and leaned forward. "What kind of alternative?"

"It just so happens that I have an opening at Nightstone Unlimited for a paid internship, and although we haven't exactly gone through the formal application and interview process, " Domnquie laughed, " I think you would be a perfect candidate." 

"Me?" Dawn asked, taken off guard.

Dominque smiled, "Yes, you."

"I'd have to think about it," Dawn hesitated, wondering what Buffy would have had to stay about all of this.

******

Elsewhere

Spike rushed into the room of the Magic Shop, his entrance causing the metal wind chimes hung over the entrance to jangle with a teeth-jarring clang. 

"What the hell are you doing here?" Xander yelled, dropping the box of onyx worry stones he had been assigned to stock the display shelves with. Upon impact with the floor, they made a loud clink and shuffle as the were shifted around in the newspaper they had been wrapped in, to prevent breakage.

"I did not come here, git," Spike shouted back, "because I enjoy the pleasure of yer company. This is important." Spike ignored Xander and all but hurtled himself towards Buffy like the magnetic needle of compass seeking true north. His fists were clenched and his eyes were bloodshot. Not unusual in that, for being a vampire that was normal for him, especially when he'd been drinking heavily.

"Spike, what's wrong?" Buffy said.

"I found this at the house. Dawn's gone. All that was left in the place, was this note." Spike said. "Someone's taken the little bit. Not that it's any of your business, but I'm rather find of the kid, bugger that," Spike replied.

"Dawn's missing?" Buffy took the crumpled sheet of paper from Spike and read it aloud_. _

'If you ever want to see either girl again, you will come to New York, and bring a ransom of $1 million dollars. Only then will I be willing to negotiate for their release and take the Slayer in exchange. Come alone" .=Demona.

Buffy clenched her hand into a fist, crumpling the paper, and then tossed it into the nearby waste basket.

"My little girl!" Chloe shouted.

"Why do you care?" Xander tried.

"Who's Demona?" Giles asked.

"Never heard of her," Spike shrugged.

"That's a comfort," Buffy muttered. "I could hit the streets, pump you know-who for information."

"Wait a minute," Willow interrupted, "Didn't the note say we have to go to New York?"

"We don't have that kind of money. Not to mention getting all the way across country," Xander said.

"I, however, do." A woman's low-throaty voice came from the threshold of the Magic Shop's open doorway.

"Nice outfit," Buffy commented, eyeing the newcomer's tight-fitting red and blue outfit that looked she had ordered out of Guns & Ammo weekly. It was very form-fitting, and covered her lithe but well-muscled body like a second skin, but left her arms bare. The skin showing was white as a lily, but not quite as pale as vampire's. The strange woman had platinum blond hair piled on top of her head in a tight knot. She dripped with sweat and thin tendrils of her hair plastered to her forehead.

"Who the hell are you?" Buffy demanded. Buffy tried to contrast the woman's confident and arrogant attitude with that of her old flame, Riley Finn to the mental picture she still had of him and the Initivative, and grimaced at the differences.

"Robyn Canmore." she replied. 

"Color us so not impressed," Buffy said. 'As if 'that' explained everything." she thought to herself.

"Let's establish some ground rules, right here and now, so there's no such of any confusion later. You're going with me to get your loved ones back. You can't trust the Demon to uphold her end of any bargain," Robyn said.

"The Demon?" Tara wondered. 

"What else would you call her?" Robyn shrugged.

"What kind of bone do you have to pick with her?" Giles asked.

"I have to avenge a blood debt. One centuries old." Robyn replied. "You wouldn't understand, and it's too complicated to get into further right now. Suffice it to say, you're going along on sufferance. But when push comes to shove, I've got first dibs on Demona."  


"Vengeance?" Buffy asked. 

"Yes." Robyn replied. "Not that it's any of your concern."

"That may be, " Chole yelled, but choked and what she wanted to say, then opened her mouth to try again.

"I think we deserve more than that," Xander yelled. "I for one, would like to know exactly what we're up against. And one thing I don't understand, is what a gargoyle, even one's that admittedly insane, would want with ransom money?"

"She's a gargoyle. She's been around since the Dark Ages, specifically circa 994 AD. She was trained a sorceress, and made a deal with a Trio of witches called the Weird Sisters, to become immortal. For the last ten thousand years Demona has been engaged in one scheme after another to destroy humanity, mainly her malice was provoked when humanity betrayed her kind, so now she believes that all humans are her enemy, or worse her prey," Robyn added, 

"Prey?" Willow echoed, arching an eyebrow.

"Hey, Chloe. Remember the last group of gargoyles we encountered, " Xander nodded. "That Goliath was all gung ho about how gargoyles protect, in fact, he struck me as being over-protective. "

"I remember. Turning back to confront Robyn once more. We're going with you," Chloe added, wrapping her hand around Xander's her lips pressed together to keep from crying. For a flash of a second she wondered if she had made a mistake in her choose all those months ago, when she had chosen to stay in Sunnydale, and accepting the proposition put forth by the Weird Sisters, by not returning to Avalon, she had become mortal, and given up her magic. She had grown to love Xander, their child, and their friends, especially Willow, and Tara, along with Buffy and Dawn.

"I'm going after Dawn." Buffy fingered the edge of her wooden stake, her blue eyes icy. She knew she couldn't afford to lose her resolve about going, nor could she afford to trust this woman. In the back of her mind, she wanted very much to lay the blame for this mess squarely on this Robyn's blue-flared shoulders. If it hadn't been for her, they wouldn't even have been in Sunnydale, and Dawn would have been spared being kidnapped. Although, given the kind of live they lived in Sunnydale, Dawn wasn't that much of a stranger to the weirdness that seemed to inundate their lives. With their mother recently deceased, Slayer or not, Buffy knew it was her job to protect Dawn, above and beyond the call of duty as Dawn's older sister.

They're was never any doubt that we'd have to go after them, " Xander added

"Any idea what Demona might do to them?"

"I don't normally take on passengers," Robyn said," but I'm willing to make an exception in this 

case."

" I don't want to guess, " Buffy interrupted. "I want to know!"

"I don't know about the rest of you," Willow said, "But I remember the last time Sunnydale was left undefended. If the minions of darkness get wind that the Slayer is away, the town will be left wide open. "

"Then we will stay here, " Giles decided, "Byt that I mean, Willow, Tara, and Spike., and myself."

"Agreed," Buffy decided, and no arguments." as she took her attention off of her weapons. She glared at the indignant vampire, who had just sprung to his feet from his seated position on the floor, and was about to launch a protest. "

"If you're finished here," Robyn glared at around at everyone in general, "I suggest we depart immediately for New York. My helicopter is waiting outside."

****

Scene 6 Arrival

__

New York, present day

The helicopter's rotors ground to a halt and landed on the landscaped grounds of the Cloisters. The moonlight left dappled patches of shadow across the grass and left hollows in the lead paned windows. The place was big, and although she didn't know much about architecture, it looked like the place had belonged to several different centuries; none of which was the present. I had red brick stones, a peaked roof, and large double doors.

"Are you certain this is the right place?" Xander asked, getting off, and then handing Chloe down and waiting for everyone else to get off as well.

"Yes," Robyn said, dismissing them from her thoughts completely.

"It's called The Cloisters." a deep bass voice rumbled directly behind his back startling Xander and making him jump. When he recovered, he turned around and saw the granite, but handsome face of the big male gargoyle, called Goliath he met about a year ago. *add description*

"Geez. " Xander griped. "Could you not sneak up on people."

"My apologies, Harris, isn't it?" Goliath said. "I recall that incident with the Weird Sisters. I do hope things turned out for the best."

"Yeah, everything's fine, how did you know to come here." Xander replied

"We were about to ask you the same thing, lad," Hudson said.

"I think I'll field that one, " Elisa answered. "We received an anonymous tip that indicated that there would be trouble going down here tonight."

"You a cop?" Buffy asked.

Elisa just smiled and pulled out her police badge from her jacket pocket and brandished it around.

"The reason we're here, is that Demona's holding two kids hostage," Buffy answered. "One of them is my sister, Dawn, the other is their little girl, Christabel."

"Say no more," Angela said, "We understand. We will be glad to help in any way we can."

"Angela is my daughter," Goliath said. "I could not bear the thought of anything happening to her, so count me in as well." 

"You haven't had the opportunity to meet the rest of the Clan," Hudson said, "I am Hudson, that is Brooklyn, the one with the red coloring, who's sulking…."

"I am not!" Brooklyn snapped.

"Oh, you could have fooled me, lad," Hudson teased.

"The big one with the belly and in love, is Broadway, and that last but not least, this is Lexington." Hudson finished the round of introductions. I believe you have already meet Goliath, Angela, Elisa Maza, and Bronx."

Xander shrugged, and introduced his companions as well.

Just then, Bronx, his corkscrew tail whirling in double time, hung as close as possible to Xander's heels, bumping him with his flat head; almost knocking him down.

"Heel, boy," Hudson ordered. "I think he likes you.

"Oh, I think he definitely likes you, Xander" Chloe said, nervously giving the garg-dog a cautious pat on the head, recalling the circumstances of their last meeting. 

Xander glanced down and resisted the urge to rub the garg-dog between his bat-winged ears. See those ears and that tail, brought back memories back of the first time that they had met. Bronx had been bound and determined to give his face a through face-washing, not to mention sit on him. Bronx looked just as big as ever, although it looked like whoever was responsible for feeding him had cut down on the rations. "Ah, good boy," he tried.

"Let's go." Buffy led the way, yanking on the carved door knocker, and opened the door.

****

__

INSIDE

"I don't care what kind of personal grudges you've got against this Demona," Buffy interrupted. "She's got my sister, and come hell or high water, I'm going to get Dawn back."

"Hey, not to mention she's got our baby and we'll get her back too," Chloe said.

"We'll get them both back," Xander replied.

"We're here. Now what?" Buffy demanded.

"We split up. That way we cover more territory, The Cloisters is a maze, and there's no telling how many traps and security measures Demona has set into place. She no doubt knows where by now, " Goliath said.

"Enough of this," Robyn snapped. "This is a far as you go. From here on in, you're on your own."

"I don't trust you," Chloe turned to confront Robyn.

"No reason why you should, either of you," she added, staring Goliath with a sneer.

"Let's go," Chloe said.

****

Scene Confrontation

__

Later

"I hate it here, " Brooklyn muttered under his breath.

"Hey, bro," Broadway said out of the side of his mouth, his bat-winged ears flapping in the cool night breeze. "No one is ever gonna trust Demona. How long are you gonna hold onto your personal grudge against her? So, this was the scene of the big temptation, where she tried to convince you to come over to her side and do the sorcery mojo on Goliath. It ain't the place that matters, bro." 

Brooklyn stared at him, "When did you become so wise?"

Broadway grinned, "I am in love. That makes me so wise in matters of the heart, or so Angela tells me."

"Oh, brother," Brooklyn sighed.

Angela laughed and smacked Brooklyn on the back, and nearly upsetting his balance.

"He understands, " Angela smiled. "He just doesn't like to admit that he does." Angela pulled back a swath of velvet curtain that concealed yet another hidden passageway and wondered how they would ever find Demona in this maze.

"Oh, I'm sure," Brooklyn replied. "I've blocked out the entire incident, it's not something I'd care to relive; even though Goliath forgave me. At the same time, I can remember my way around here pretty good."

"So, we're on the right track?" Chloe asked.

"Yeah," Brooklyn replied.

"Be prepared for anything, Demona is bound to have defenses prepared."

No sooner than Goliath said that, Hudson, Broadway, and Bronx smacked into an invisible force field seemingly made of nothing more than air. Bronx butted his head against it several times, forward, backed up, forward, backed up; growled at the block in his path. Hudson came forward and grabbed the garg-dog by the scruff of his neck, and patted him on the head. With his free hand, he punched the invisible barrier, with disappointing results.

"Now what?" Elisa asked.

"Maybe she'll…"" Buffy began, but was cut off.

Goliath tried, and received an unpleasant tingling sensation that made his entire frame shake. He gathered his wings around him, and adopted a thoughtful pose.

  
"Look, we don't have all night," Xander shouted, nervously pacing back and forth. "There has to be a way through this thing.

****

"My, my," Demona purred. "I told you to come alone, but if I'd known I was to receive so many unexpected guests, I would have baked a cake." Demona smiled, her teeth gleaming in the light of wall torches in their brackets on the walls. In the dim lighting it looked more like the rictus grin of a skeleton, coming into view behind yet another tapestry, this one depicting a unicorn hunt, all very Medieval. She had dropped her human semblance, and caped her wings so it draped over her shoulders like a cloak. Her eyes blazed red. "Slayer. You've brought the ransom money?"

"Yeah, the kind that goes boom." Xander replied, thinking back as he did so to the time he'd been recruited into a gang of thugs who just happened to be undead as their wheel-man and had driven around town raising the dead, literally, and picking up ingredients to blow up the Sunnydale high school. It had been one of the most surreal nights of his life, and that was understatement in a town like that. 

Demona ignored him, and stared at Buffy. "The Slayer, I presume?" and the entire Manhattan Clan. I should be so honored."

"Don't play dumb," Buffy demanded, "You know why I'm here, Where's Dawn?" And what do you want with us?

"She's around. But I told you to come alone, " Demona purred, and here you are, in stereo no less."

"Buffy! Dawn shouted, "Over here!" from where she had been tied to a folding chair by beside a crib where Christabel lay in a wooden crib. The shouting and the explosions awakened her, and she began wailing.

"Dawn!" Buffy yelled back. "Hang on, just a little longer! I'm coming!"

"Christabel!" Chloe shouted. 

Just then, a loud explosion came from the opposite side of chamber, and Robyn, clad in full body-armor burst through the wall. Over one shoulder was arguably one of the biggest guns that Xander had ever seen; not even the Initiative's soldiers had toted guns that big. 

"Time has come, demon, " Robyn shouted, firing off several blasts at Demona.

Demona whirled around, instinctively dodged the blasts, hurtled herself forward, and slammed into her enemy with enough force that made her resemble a linebacker in full blitz, knocking the gun away, where it collided into the opposite wall.

"Who knows," Xander shrugged. "We should be so luck and they'll finish each other off."

"No such luck, lad," Hudson shrugged, rubbing his burnt hands.

****

Buffy gathered herself and got a running start, bracing herself for the electric tingle against her skin; it came, but it wasn't as bad as she had expected. She burst through the invisible force field, wondering what made her think she could take either of the two opponents with her bare hands. Mentally kicking herself for not having brought along more weapons than just wooden stakes.

Xander and Chloe, standing frozen in shock for an instant, followed her through the force field.

On the other side, Elisa and the rest of the Manhattan clan were left with looks on their faces of mingled puzzlement and worry. 

****

Meanwhile Robyn and Demona exchanged blows, both snarling with fury. Demona lashed out with a fist and it connected with a solid right hook to Robyn's jaw. "I hate those who betray me." she snarled under her breath.

"You're a fine one to talk!" Robyn shouted back, her head snapping back from the force of the blow, and returned the favor with a left hook to Demona's jaw. The two separated and took a mutual step back to reassess their strategy. Robyn gasped for air, and a made as if to go for her laser blaster where it lay on the floor about two yard from her present position.   
Demona grabbed her around the waist, and tossed her in the other direction,; sliding across the marble floor of the chamber, and finally came to a halt.

"Hey, remember me? The Slaye?" Buffy shouted. "I don't like being upstaged."

Demona turned around at the sound of her voice.

***

"I've spotted where Dawn and Christabel are being held, " Chloe whispered to Xander. "Let's take advantage of the situation and go rescue them."

"I'm with you all the way," Xander whispered back, taking her arm and running with her to the far darkened part of the room.

"Buffy! Help me!" Dawn shouted, squirming around in her chair, trying to loosen the ropes that bound her arms and legs.

"We're coming, Dawn!" Chloe shouted, trying to find Dawn in the darkness by the sound of her voice. "Keep shouting, we're almost there!"

"I found them!" Xander shouted, rubbing his shin where he had bumped into the chair and then into the wooden crib.

Chloe ran up beside him and knelt down next to Dawn's chair. "Dawn, hold still. I can't see very in the dark. I'll have to use the knife I brought along to cut the ropes. "

"Okay," Dawn whispered back, holding still.

Chloe began cutting the ropes, hoping that was all she was cutting, it wouldn't do to either pink Dawn's skin or heaven forbid, slash a wrist. 

Meanwhile, Xander heaved a sigh of relief when he removed the velvet blank from the crib and reached inside to make sure that baby Christabel was inside and safe. He picked her up, and tried to shush her insistent wailings.

"Thanks for the save, guys," Dawn said. "Is Buffy here?"

"She's here," Chloe replied, blinking a bit as all the lights in the room came on at once.

"Buffy!" Dawn screamed, grabbing the knife that Chloe had used to free from the binding ropes and rushed into the fight, leaving Xander and Chloe behind with the baby and worried looks on their faces. "We'd better go after her," Xander said, when he'd recovered breath to speak.

"Right," Chloe nodded.

***

Meanwhile Demona and Buffy faced each other. "So you're the Slayer?" Demona purred. "I've heard a great deal about you. Dawn is quite devoted to you. You may have her back, after you've paid the ransom of course. "

"Not even a snowflake's chance in hell," Buffy replied.

"Well, I guess we'll have to do things the hard way," Demona said.

"Fine by me," Buffy replied, "That's the way I like them." With that, Buffy propelled herself forward, her right leg extended for a judo kick to Demona's middle rib section. It connected with a satisfying thud, but on the follow through, she found her foot in Demona's hands and herself thrown over her shoulder. Demona had resorted to one of the oldest tricks in the book, using her opponent's own momentum against her.   


Buffy tucked herself into a roll and went head over heels, and whirled around for another attack, this time on the defensive.

Demona came at her , again with similarity to a full blitz, both hands clenched into fists and began

hammering at Buffy, who took the blows on her crossed forearms.

Just then, Dawn rushed into the fight, the knife held upright in her clenched fist, oblivious of the tears that streaked her face, followed almost on her heels by Xander and Chloe; the latter holding Christabel wrapped up in his jacket.

"Face it," Buffy said. "It's over."

"For you, maybe." Demona snarled, her tail lashing out and tried to sweep Buffy off of her feet. Buffy dodged it and swung her fist for another solid right hook, her eyes icy blue.

__

Afterwards

Demona fled the chamber, her piercing screech mingled rage and frustration, not having expected the Slayer to give her a difficult fight, not to mention thwarted again by Goliath and the rest of his gargoyle clan. "Why must they always ruin my fun?" she thought to herself as she glided away on the rising night thermals.

Conclusion

"Goliath, the spell should be broken now," ELisa said, "I think it may have gone when Demona was no longer concentrating on maintaining it." Elisa stepped forward, carefully avoiding cracks and bits of broken marble. She had drawn her .38 caliber gun, cocked and loaded at Robyn Canmore. "Guess what?

"What?" Robyn muttered, gasping, the wind knocked out of her, having finally regained consciousness.

"You're under arrest. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say, can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to attorney. If you do not have an attorney, one will be appointed to you by the state. Do you understand these rights as I've explained them to you?" Elisa finished, one foot resting on Robyn's arm.

"Go to hell!" Robyn spit out.

"You'll end up there eventually, I've no doubt," Elisa evenly replied. "For the immediate future, after you've had trial, you'll be going to jail."

"Agreed," Goliath said, marching into the chamber, followed by Elisa and the rest of the Manhattan clan.

"I should known the offer was too good to be true," Dawn sobbed. "She was so persuasive, so beautiful. I wanted to believe her. One thing, I don't understand, how come she looked human if she's really a gargoyle?"

"How come we couldn't kill her?" Buffy asked, holding a sobbing Dawn in her arms, biting her own lips to keep from crying in sheer relief that her sister was safe and sound.

"Demona's immortal, lass," Hudson rumbled. 'Thanks to a magical spell cast by the Weird Sisters a thousand years ago. She and a fellow by the name of Macbeth can die, they just can't be killed permanently unless slain by each other's hand."

"How come she looked human, but then changed back into a gargoyle?" Dawn asked.

"Again, thanks to another spell, this one cast by the trickster known as Puck. Demona can take on the semblance of a human during the day, and return to her gargoyle form at night. That she way she avoids having to turn to stone," Goliath answered.

"And here I thought Sunnydale has the market cornered on weirdness," Xander said. " This happen to guys every night?"

"Not every night," Elisa smiled, "just often enough to make life interesting."

"Not that Robyn is going to jail, how will we get back to Sunnydale," Buffy asked.

"Not a problem, We happen to know some with a lot of money and resources at his disposal. I am sure he won't mind, giving you a lift home," Elisa smiled.

"Elisa?"

"Goliath," you might want to ask him. You know how Xanatos is about lending people his toys," Elisa replied.

"Agreed," Goliath rumbled.

Xander came forward, and picked up Christabel from where she lay in a wooden crib.

"Amazing, she actually slept through the whole thing," Xander smiled down at the little face that looked so much like his own, wondering if that was a good thing or a bad thing, sensing Chloe hovering anxiously beside him. "Is she all right?"

"She's fine, Chloe. Just fine." he replied, drawing her near, and squeezing her hand. "Let's all go home."

*****


	4. The Darkling Road

__

Disclaimer: Gargoyles: the Animated Series is the property of Disney Studios and Buena Vista Television, and their respective creators, producers, and as such, do not belong to me. I am only borrowing them for entertainment purposes and for the story. They will be returned intact when I am through with them. 

B) Buffy: the Vampire Slayer is the creation of Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy Inc, the WB network as are all related characters, events, and concepts. You know the drill, and no money is made from this. Again, a good interval is taken into account. In this story, Tara has passed away and Willow is coping with her actions against the Trio. Hopefully, I won't include too many spoilers for the events shown in the last episode that aired, but you never know. g In the sequence of my stories, this would take shortly after "_Reckless_." with a good interval taken into account. It would be helpful to read the stories in the order they were written. This is chapter 4.

**"Darkling Road" by Karen**

Prologue

Willow opened the lead-paned of her seventh floor dorm room, wincing a little as the hinges creaked from lack of attention. The dust coating the sill and the curtains shimmered in the sunlight streaming in she fancied they could almost be moths winging their way into the flame of a candle. She mentally kicked herself for the maudlin turn of her thoughts. She threw back the curtains, thinking as she did so, that it time she thought about buying a new set. The green and gray with scarlet flowers, the fabric had faded a bit around the edges. "Tara's favorite," Willow sighed. "Stop it," she scolded herself aloud. "Tara's dead. She's gone and there's nothing you or anyone else can do about it." 

Willow turned around in a took a mental inventory of everything in the room she had shared with Tara. The stuffed animals on the bed, her side always comparatively messy in comparison to Tara's orderly bed and sense of decoration that would have made a home décor expert green with envy. Willow went over to Tara's bed and finger-stroked the ivory satin dress Tara would have worn to the Winter Formal at the college's auditorium.

"What am I supposed to do without you?" Willow asked of the room in general, not really expecting a response, because the person she referred to was no longer among the living. As Tara had tried to warn her, to quite completely, using magic al together, telling it was too dangerous to treat magic as a dangerous if fascinating toy. In fact, as everyone she knew had warned her, she had been mucking around with powers beyond her control, and she had paid the price. None of her friends had said so aloud, but she could see the hurt in their eyes. 

Willow was distracted out of her thoughts by an insistent knocking at her door. Glancing into the mirror, seeing her eyes all red-rimmed and puckered around the corners, she made a hasty dash for the wooden desk, and shoved aside the candles and terra-cotta pots they had used for casting spells and holding ingredients as Wiccans. 

Willow straightened her dress, dried her eyes with a tissue from the box resting on her desk. Having composed herself a little, she went to answer the door. Standing on the other side, Xander and Chloe, the latter pushing a stroller with their nine month year old daughter, Christabel happily staring with bright blues at her surroundings. 

She couldn't help but look down into that sweet, innocent face, and feel her mood improve. She smiled. "I was wondering when you'd get here," she said to the parents. "It's weird, it hasn't been all that long since we were out of high school, and now I'm a honorary aunt," she smiled. "Where did all the time go?"

"I have no idea," Xander replied, squeezing into the room. "But it's your turn to watch the little darling, so you'd better get used to it."

"I feel special," Willow replied, mock-seriously, her mood starting to improve at the return to the familiar teasing camaraderie that they had developed as friends. "What did the doctor say?" she asked, moving farther into the room and brushing heaps of clothes off chairs and the bed to make room for her guests to sit down. 

"How are you?" Chloe asked, concerned about Willow's mental state after everything that had happened.

"She's going to be fine, I mean, Christabel's going to be fine. Maybe she was too young to understand what was going after she was kidnapped. Believe it or not, she slept through the whole thing." Xander grinned. "I thought babies were supposed to be fussy, cry all night, wake up their parents, and demand attention. Not her."

****

Willow laughed and bent down to tickle the toddler under her chin. The toddler giggled and reached out with one chubby hand to wrap her fingers around the locket that Willow wore around her neck. Gently coaxing Christabel to release her hold, Willow then picked her up and rocked her up and down on her knee. "Does she do this often?" Willow asked, watching the girl try and climb her like her namesake tree. She managed to get the toddler to relax and by mutual agreement, they both found positions they were comfortable with.

"All the time," Xander sighed, trying not to laugh at the maneuvering both were forced to do.

"Any word yet on what Giles has found as far as daycare for her?" Willow asked.

"No. "Aint' it ironic? We're great at research when it concerns the mystical, the supernatural, and let's face it, the macabre, but when it comes to the everyday stuff of life, we're hopeless. Willow, you're great at surfing the Web, maybe you could…" Xander shrugged. "I have absolutely no idea what to look for." 

****

"I've never been a mother before, even as the Banshee," Chloe flushed. "Uh, I do not know how to put this delicately, you see the Third Race, or Dark Elves, only bore children every once in a thousand years, so we were always a smidgen envious of humans and the second race, Gargoyles, have the ability to birth multiple offspring."

"Huh?" Willow said, unable to come up with anything more coherent at the moment.

"Well, now we are parents, we're grasping at straws on how to probably raise our daughter here," Xander grinned, knowing that it was probably a foolish one, but he couldn't help it.

****

"Xander, luv," Chloe said, "I think we're getting a bit ahead of ourselves." she paused a brushed a strand of red hair out of her eyes, "Refresh my memory, have we asked Willow to be our daughter's honorary aunt or not?"

****

"We have, but it never hurts to ask again, right?" Xander nodded, brushing a stray lock of black hair out of his eyes. "Willow, will do me the honor of being a honorary aunt to this brat, which we call our daughter?"

Willow was a bit startled by the mocking tone of the request, but then laughed when she realized he was asking in the only way he knew how, and agreed**.**

Avalon, somewhere out of time

Meanwhile

The castle had been built on a rocky headland, with waves lapping at its base. As always the lower masonry blocks that were intended to keep the sea at bay, seemed just on the verged of being washed away. Inside, stone walls dripped color, much as if someone had melted down the rainbow. Lights hung from the ceiling and lit the palace as bright as day, although outside the isle was cloaked in night. 

Oberon, Avalon's Lord and King, would flatly refuse to admit to it if pressed, but he too could fall prey to the baser emotions, like jealousy and impatience that were so often the downfall of lesser beings such as mortals. 

The Gathering had been indefinitely postponed, his servant, Puck, had defied him and stayed among the humans, and to make matters worse, the gargoyles, had handed him the singular most stinging defeat he had ever endured in his millennia long life. 

****

"The balance of magic is no longer in harmony, we must needs send an emissary.

Someone has been tampering with magic, play, but dangerous play nonetheless." Oberon stated, irritably running one hand along the carved arm of his ivory throne. He barely acknowledged the presence of the servant who refilled his crystal goblet of honeysuckle wine. Absorbed in his thoughts, he did not even notice the significant glare of his lady-wife and queen, Tatania.

  
"Husband, pray tell, what you propose to do about it? Surely you will not venture thither thyself," Tatiana said, gazing with rapt attention into the mirror that bore her name. The mirror's misty surface shimmered like the heat currents over an ocean's waves.

She tapped the surface with a middle ring finger so delicately tapered it might as well have been a needle, and mentally ordered the mirror to bring up the image of the red-headed girl that had her Lord and Husband, to use the mortal term, hot and bothered. She fondly recalled the last mortal she had married because he had intrigued her, and five hundred years ago she had been curious to learn about mortal and live among then, one Halycon Reynard. That union had taught her much about the human world, about how the felt and lived, and even about the technological marvels that the Third Race, the fay, found as miraculous as humans found magic and its workings. The union of herself and Reynard had produced a daughter, one Fox Xanatos. Disappointingly, Fox had shown no signs of possessing even an inkling of magic, however, her son, Alexander Xanatos did, in abundance. During the last Gathering, Oberon had agreed to allow the boy to stay with his parents, and Puck, a rebellious servant, banished from Avalon for all time, to train the boy in the use of her magical powers. It still rankled Oberon to have bend his stiff pride and accede to the demands of those he considered his inferiors, but he hadn't had a choice. As much as he refused to admit it, their kind did have one weakness; they were venerable to weapons forged of cold iron. All this went through Tatiana's thoughts, as she waited for the mirror's power to accede to her demands and bring up the desired image. 

****

***

Elsewhere

Buffy whirled around, instinct and adrenaline driving home the wooden stake she clenched in her right hand. The vampire expired in a cloud of dust a surprised look on his craggy face. She sighed, being the Slayer it was her job to dispatch demons, vampires and assorted nasties back to where they came from, but it sure did not leave her any time for anything resembling a 'normal' life. 

"Typical," she muttered under her breath, collapsing rather than sitting down on a nearby marble slab that had seen better days. Fine lines like spider webs criss-crossed its smooth surface. Dirt and a fine layer of dust, which made her sneeze, as she got comfortable, was thick in the air, moonlight washing everything in an eerie glow. Buffy sighed and twirled her wooden stake in her hand. "I'm here patrolling, while everyone else is having a good time.

Just as she was drifting off into a half-doze, just to rest her eyes, she whirled around in a 180 degree circle, her instincts and training responding to half felt, half seen threat sneaking up behind her. Expecting to confront one of the members of Sunnydale's undead population, a vampire or a demon; what she saw instead was a very angular man, his hair coiffed into a bizarre style that made Buffy think of a beehive, coiled into a braided strands on the top of his narrow face. On his pointed chin, the man sported a silver goatee beard. They stood about five minutes in mutual silent regard, and Buffy, was beginning to get restless. So far, he had not made any move to either attack or flee, or decide who would be the first to break the ice. "Who are you?" Buffy finally demanded, her arms folded over her chest, her wooden stake twirling in her right hand. She couldn't have sworn to it, but there was something about the look in his eyes, and smirk playing about his thin-lipped mouth that made her remember the fellow who had come to confront Chloe months ago. If this guy wasn't a dead ringer for that Owen Burnett, or Puck, or whatever his name was, they might as well have been brothers. "Well, I'm waiting." Buffy said aloud.

"Indeed, we have been waiting a very long time." He bowed. 

"Oh, that clarified things a whole bunch," Buffy smirked. "Care to expand on that?"

"Now we are getting somewhere. Allow me to introduce myself. 

"What are you?" Buffy asked.

"One of the Fay, or Dark Elves. The Scots called us the Fair Folk. Although, personally,' he lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper, "I have always been partial to the Irish and their name for my people, 'The Tuatha De Daanan."

"Huh?" Buffy couldn't form anything more coherent at the moment after everything he had told so far. "What difference does it make what people call your kind?" When she managed to wrap her mind around not just the words but the strange mesmerizing lyrical sounds of his voice, it reminded Buffy of the way Willow, or anyone else she knew sounded when the uttered the incantations to spells. She couldn't help but wonder if she was being subjected to some kind of bizarre attack that used words instead of weapons she could sense with her eyes, ears, and hands, or the less visible senses that were part of her nature as the Slayer. She could feel a dull buzzing start at the base of her spine and work its way up to her head and wrap itself around her brain. Her knees started to give, and irritated at herself for allowing this person to make her feel that way, she shook her head and slapped at her cheeks to wake herself up.

He tossed his head back, the movement sending the coils of silver hair free from their restraints and cascade down his back. "You have a sense of humor, Slayer. Excellent. None of my own would even think to ask that question. None, I suppose. But to fire your question right back at you, do you think of yourself as the Slayer first or a woman first?"

"Not fair," Buffy demanded, refusing to be baited into playing some weird version of 20 questions. "And in case you've forgotten, I asked first."

"Indeed," he laughed. "I am called Orlando."

"Well, Orlando," Buffy said, glancing around in 360 degree circle, watching for movement among the shadows, greenery, and standing stones of the cemetery for vampires, or other fay, just in case this Orlando fellow wasn't as alone as he claimed. "Why are you here and what do you want with me?"

"That's two."

"Two?"  


"Two questions," Orlando replied, seating himself on a nearby tombstone. "Fair enough, I have been rather verbose in our first encounter. The reason that I am here is two fold," he rocked back on his heels and lifted his hands and laced them together in front of his chest in front of the spot where his heart would be located. 

"First, I bring you a warning of an impending disaster that will not just affect you personal and the relationships you hold with those you hold dear, but something will happen or has happened, I am really not sure which it is, but it has caused the High and Mighty a wee bit of concern."

"Okay, consider me warned? Who sent you here and how am I supposed to do something about it when all you do is go around the subject in circles?" Buffy asked.

"I was not sent, not in the sense of being ordered on this embassy," Orlando replied.

"Okay, you came on your own to warn me. Now what?" Buffy asked.

Orlando nodded. "I would not have volunteered as you put it, but out of all seasons and reasons, for causes I can not even begin to explain this place of yours, you call Sunnydale has been emitting untold amounts of spiritual energy, and now as I mentioned our Lord and Lady have declared that the Balance is has been disturbed, and this is the reason for them to have sent an agent to restore that balance."

"An agent?" Buffy said, becoming a little worried, balancing on the balls of her feet, torn between staying around and learning all she could from this odd duck and running off to the Magic Box to tell her friends about this impending doom. 

Orlando nodded. "You see, according to our calendar, and our reckoning there are only certain times of the year where spiritual energy should be at its peak, one of those times is due to come up," he paused and counted on his fingers, "one, two, divide by ten, on the date you call the first of November, Samhain, or it's called All Saints Day followed by All Souls Day."

"The day after Halloween?" Buffy replied.

"Yes."

"And what happens then?"

"I ask your indulgence for a while longer," Orlando blushed, his fair skin darkening to an ivory white. "I do not yet know the identity of the agent the Lord of Avalon has dispatched. I need to investigate further. And please understand that I say this not to distress you, but the identity of the mortal they have targeted as being responsible for upsetting the balance between magic and nature is known to you."

"The Wiccan witch," Orlando whispered, tossing his head and allowing his silver hair to fall over his eyes.

"They're after Willow?" Buffy asked.

"Yes."

****

"Who's the agent? How much time do I have to work with here?" Buffy asked.

"I am sorry," Orlando replied, hanging his head and stuffing his hands into the pockets of his tunic. "I pray your indulgence. I do not yet know the identity of the agent. "

"How come you're giving the runaround. Do you always provide information in dribs and drabs?"

****

****

Later

"I assume, Mi Lord, that thou wilst be sending an enforcer?" Tatiana asked.

"Indeed," Oberon smiled, his thin lips creasing in a narrow furrow. "I believe that I have such a person in mind." He cocked his head to one side, mulling over his options. "In fact, HE must just welcome such an opportunity. That is if I can persuade him to stir out of his centuries-long self-imposed hibernation.

Tatiana looked startled for a moment, the embroidered gown she had been mending sliding out of her fingers and falling to the floor with a soft rustle of cloth. "Thou do not mean The Horned God?" 

Oberon smiled again, and it was not a pleasant one, deciding to refuse to answer such an obvious question, but in the midst of his smug assurance, a quiver of doubt made itself known. The Horned God was notoriously reclusive and stubborn, and not easily persuaded to involve himself in anyone's cause, unless it was his decision first, but Oberon was not the Lord of Avalon without reason, and already knew that this was a situation that The Horned God would be more than willing to lend his assistance. After all, the Balance of Magic must be maintained, at all costs.

****

***

Interlude

"This place is immaculate, much better than the usual cemeteries we frequent," Xander quipped, trying for levity, because he knew how hard this would be for Willow, in the aftermath of the utter disaster of what followed after Tara had been killed by the Trio. Willow's grief had caused her to go off the deep end. She had tapped into every available dark magical power source and them some, had gone off a supernatural death hunt. As it was, she had flayed one boy alive, the one who actually pulled the trigger, although the bullet had been meant for Buffy, it didn't matter. Dead was dead, even in town like Sunnydale. Scary dark-magic Willow had taken out their ring-leader, leaving only Andrew and one other boy left alive. 

Trying to protect them, not for themselves, to keep Willow from killing again. Of course, killing a human being was entirely different from killing the undead, there had to be a difference. It was not so much that they were protecting the boys, it was trying to get Willow back to herself, to remember who she really was without the supernatural magic flowing through her.

She had even lashed out at her friends, and fought Buffy, and Giles as well.

Whatever kind of power she had taken from the former Watcher, made her believe that in order to save the world from more suffering, she had to destroy the world. Xander couldn't help thinking of some phrase from an old movie he had seen with Willow before all this badness began. 'Good thinking, Colonel Clink. In order to save the village, we had to burn down the village.' 

Out loud he said, "Hey, where's Christabel?"

Willow blushed and finger-combed her hair. "Chloe and I found out that the college ran a daycare right on campus. It checks out, too. It's run by professional and students majoring in child day care and the like."

"Chloe said it was fine?" he asked, irritated that he hadn't been consulted first, but figuring that if anyone knew what they were doing and what to look for in daycare, it would be Willow. In fact, he recalled that he asked Willow to look around for them.

"So we can pick up our 'brat' later."

"Why do you call her that?" Willow asked, wondering at the sarcastic tone of his voice.

Xander blushed, "I really don't know. I guess it's just easier to joke about it, that way I can wrap my brain around the fact that I'm actually a dad now. There are days when it just doesn't seem possible. I mean, me of all people?"

"I know, sometimes I can't believe it either," Willow smiled. "I guess you'd better get used to it."

"Gee, thanks. I feel so much better "You ready for this," Xander asked.

"As ready as I'll ever be," Willow nodded. "Okay, let's go."

****

Willow moved forward mechanically not really paying attention to the place of one foot in front of another. In the back of her mind she was glad that Xander was with her, no matter what happened, Xander was the one person she could rely on to always be there for her. They had known each other the longest, ever since kindergarten. When she had been running high on her own magical power and the power she had stolen from other sources, he had been the one to bring her back from the brink. He had recalled her back to herself, and for that she would always be grateful. Willow clutched the bouquet of long-stemmed roses in her hands, unaware that she was crushing the petals and bent down by the gravestone that bore the engraving of Tara's name. She got down on her knees and stared at the inscription for a long time, unaware that her lips were moving but no sound came out. In the back of her mind she kept hearing a little voice saying "Why did you have to die, Tara? Why didn't I stop it? If I could have done something different, maybe you would still be alive. I need you. Another voice, this one taking a different tone, whispered, "If given a choice, would you have done anything differently, would have you made different choices?"

Willow shook her head, and bit her lip to keep from crying. She placed the bouquet of flowers on the ground beneath Tara's headstone, neatly arranging them. With the tip of one finger she traced the outlines of Tara's date of birth and the date of her death, right below the letters that spelled out what Tara had meant to her and their circle of friends: FRIEND FOREVER." "Goodbye, Tara." Willow whispered.

When she finally straightened up again, Willow wiped the light coating of dust and grass stains from her maroon skirts and, with Xander arm wrapped about hers, walked back to where Xander had left his car parked.

"You going be okay?" Xander asked.

"Eventually," Willow replied, "Give me some time. Xander, in case I forget to mention this later, thanks for coming with me."

"Hey, Will, it's me remember?" Xander smiled, and held the passenger side door open for her. She climbed into and settled herself into the seat, fastening the seatbelt around her middle. Xander shut the door and walked around to the driver side, fumbling in his jeans pocket for his car keys. Just as he was about to unlock the door, a wind whipped up out of nowhere, rustling his black hair, kicking up a small cloud of dirt, dust, and debris.

****

Willow unfastened her seatbelt and got out of the car, as the wind circled around and threatened to blow in the glass of the car's windows. She ran over to where Xander stood and instinctively clung to each to avoid getting knocked about, the dust, debris and sand in the dust cloud feeling like stinging needles as they stood in the open without any shelter from the wind.

****

Confrontation

Finallythe wind finally died down and an apparition appeared vaguely man-shaped, standing well over six feet and its body massive with muscle and fur. Standing as it did in the shadows, made it hard to determine what manner of creature faced them.

****

"Ah, you got any idea what that is?" Willow asked, pointing towards the apparition with a trembling finger. Xander gripped her arm so hard that his knuckles turned white. At the same time he could feel the moisture of a damp and cold fear sweat drip down his back. He gasped for breath and tried to loosen his death-grip on Willow's arm when he realized that it was hurting her, and the last thing he wanted to do was hurt her. He let go and took a few cautious steps toward the creature. In as brave a voice as he could muster, he demanded: "What, or Who are you? And what do you want with us!"

****

The creature's mouth moved but no sounds emerged from its throat, as if it found forming words an unfamiliar and difficult task. It looked up at him and Xander blinked a few times, feeling his will to resist begin to drain away like water down a laundry basin. Xander took a handful of ragged breaths, trying to calm down his racing heart; his mouth tasted like he had been chewing cotton balls, and demanded again: "What do you want?" he asked, carefully enunciating each word slowly.

****

Xander for an instant thought either it the being was deaf or was deliberately ignoring him. As far as Xander was concerned, that wouldn't be the first time. Tearing his gaze away, he exchanged significant glances with Willow, with a look in his eyes, saying, 'Let's make a run for it.'. He realized that he still gripped her arm rather tightly, and loosened the hold of his fingers so he wouldn't be cutting of her circulation. As close as they stood, he could feel the pounding of her heart and shallow breath come in and out of her lungs. In a back corner of his mind, he toyed with the idea of defending her, but as quickly discarded the idea, how many blows could he get in on a creature five times his size, and all of it muscle and bulk? Not many. Xander told himself, and thought about making a break for his parked car only a few feet away from where they stood frozen to the spot.

Willow, wanted to run, she didn't even think about trying to defend herself. Again that little voice that had whispered inside her head earlier that day, thoughts about continuing to practice and play around with her magical powers, spoke to her again, telling her not to be afraid, that they were kindred spirits; that he meant her no harm, he was only there to help restore the magical balance between magic and the natural world. Willow removed her hands from around Xander's arm, not realizing if she was hurting him or not, and clapped her hands over ears in an effort to block out the whispered, silent voice. The more she tried to block the voice the louder it got, until it was so loud that she feel to her knees and began rocking back and forth, yelling over and over, "Make it stop! Make it stop! Get out of my head! I'm not like you! I don't care about some stupid magical balance."

"Do not be alarmed," the creature intoned in a deep bass voice. "The balance must be maintained. 

"That's a laugh," Xander yelled. "And you still haven't told just who you are."

"I have many names, the one that suits me thus far is the Horned God, or Cernuous. 

Stand aside, Mortal, I must needs apprehend that Wiccan."

Xander glanced over at Willow, and for an instant she stopped thrashing from side to side at the same time as the voice ended its insistent rattling around in her head. 

The headache lingered, but it had been reduced to a dull buzzing, which she could ignore. Willow stared directly into the thing's eyes and felt like she would drown in their black depths. Her eyes began to water and she blinked back the tears determined to stand her ground and get some straight answers out of this creature.

The creature approached her, aware of Xander's protective and somehow comforting presence, where he stood to the left and behind her. Willow mentally sorted through the catalog of protection/defensive spells that she bring to bear, and discarded each one just as quickly. If this thing could get into her mind and read her thoughts, he, for she had decided the creature was male, probably already had counter spells just as powerful as its thoughts seemed to be, already prepared.

Just then, the thing sped towards her, its movements very fast for all its massive bulk. She tried to bring up both fists, the words of a spell on her lips. At that instant she could hear white nose, like music heating her senses like a heat wave. The Horned God's heavy hand crushed her down to the ground at the same it crushed her will to resist. Her last conscious thought was: 'This is so unfair. I should have done something differently, I could fought his spell if only I had been given more time, or if I'd been stronger in my magic.' and she succumbed to blackness.

****

**

Xander felt rooted to the spot, but as he saw Willow crumple he willed his feet and body to move. Taking several deep breaths he ran towards the mismatched duo and ended run smack into an invisible wall. Reeling backwards from the shock her saw the Horned God, or whatever name he wanted to go by, whisper words in a language that sounded like Latin, trace some kind of squiggly magical symbol in the air, and then both of their bodies shimmered like heat currents before finally dissolving into nothingness. He closed his eyes and began moving forward again, only to find himself staring at the trunk of a willow tree. "Okay, that was par for the course in the category of weirdness." I know you can still here me! Willow! Come back! All right, Horned God! Bring her back! Do you hear me! 

****

Afterwards

"Where have you taken Willow?"?" Xander demanded as both the horned god and Willow disappeared. Xander was left to stand yelling at a tree trunk. Irritated, and out of sorts, Xander curled his hand into a fist and slammed it into the tree trunk. Cursing under his breath when the pain caught up with him. He jumped several feet into the air when a silvery voice answered his question. He turned around to see Buffy and stranger appear out of the shadows at the far end of the cemetery. "Somewhere you can not follow." 

"UH, nice to see you too," Xander griped. "Buffy, could you please explain what's going on here?"

"Xander," Buffy distracted from her one-sided argument with Orlando, who, to his credit appeared genuinely unhappy, glided over to greet Xander with a rib-crushing hug. "Boy, am I glad to see you. Do you know where Willow is. It's urgent that I find her before something else does."

"If that's the case, you're too late. I was with her and then this being showed up and snatched her away."

"Why didn't you fight this being," Buffy shouted, turning to confront Orlando. "I trusted you! I thought you were telling me the truth. All that runaround back there was a deliberate effort to stall for time until this agent had a chance at Willow!"

****

"Believe what you like," Orlando shrugged and tried for a reassuring smile, he failed miserably because Buffy smacked him in the face and he crumpled to the ground, twisting the fabric of his fancy clothes in his hands. "All right, granted that I deserved that. It was rather gauche of me to imply that I'm enjoying myself at your friend's expense, but there really is nothing I can do about the situation as it stands at the moment."

****

"Uh, Buffy" Xander began, staring at Orlando crouching on the ground like a wounded animal. "Who is this guy? And what the hell is he talking about?"

"Come over here," Buffy replied, "And I'll fill you in."

Xander went over to a niche formed by a standing tombstone and a pine tree, underneath of which someone had placed a marble bench. Xander and Buffy sat down, and tried to get comfortable. "You see, it's like this. Orlando claims to be a messenger from a race of beings called the fay," Buffy shrugged, "Don't ask me to try and repeat his preferred name for the race, it's Irish and I can't pronounce it. He came to warn me about some kind of impending doom because of Willow's magic upsetting some sort of natural balance." She raised her right hand and covered his mouth, "Shush, don't interrupt. If you do, I'll never remember all of this. Apparently, someone named Lord Oberon got all disturbed about it and sent an emissary to deal with Willow."

"How do they know it's Willow's fault for disturbing this balance?" Xander asked, remembering some of things that Willow had muttered shortly before her disappearance along with the horned god.

"I have no idea." Buffy glared over at Orlando's miserable figure on the ground. "He isn't exactly the easiest person to get a straight answer to a direct question. All he would say before we reached you was something about 'no cat in its fur anywhere ever gave anyone a straight answer.' and then we found you."

"Great," Xander muttered, raking a hand through his hair. "Just great. So, what do we do now?"

"The only thing we can do," Buffy replied, "It's something I'm not very good at it, but all we can do now is wait, and hope that Willow, wherever she is, that she makes it out."

Orlando stood up, brushed the dirt from his fancy clothes, and came over to where they sat on the marble bench. "Indeed, It's up to Willow now."

****

Scene 7 Choices

__

Limbo 

Willow's conscious awareness of her surroundings came slowly back to her.. All the same, she kept her eyes closed hoping that would make a lingering headache go away. It didn't, but that was the least of her worries. When she opened her eyes, she found herself standing in the middle of a dark wood mist swirling around along almost, rising up from the ground that was almost level with her knees. Looking around for the horned god that had taken her, she found him standing silently to her left, the contrasting shadows of trees and bushes casting the shape of horns or antlers across his brow. 

In the silence of nothingness, the horned creature finally spoke aloud to her; its voice was about as fast as snowmelt, it was definitely male, deep as a bass drum. "I am known as the Horned God, the ancient Celts knew me as Cernnous. "

"What is this place?"

"Otherworld, Limbo, it matters not."

"Well, it may not make much difference to you, but it matters to me!" she snapped, realized with a startled jump that the horns did not actually sprout from his brow, they were part of a helmet where holes had been carved to accommodate the appearance of antlers, like those of a deer. She couldn't say whether or not that should make her feel better or worse.

****

"What do you want with me?"

"I, nothing, I am merely the guide. What happens from here is entirely up to you." This place is outside of time, for every hour you spend in limbo it will be like seven of your days in the mortal world."

"I'm going to be trapped here."

"Only in the sense of the traps we create for ourselves." Recall, that I told you that the delicate nature of the world is out of balance. Time is not linear. It has layers like the skin of an onion. The more layers that unravel more lie beneath. "

"What is with this answering a question with a question?"

"It is our nature." 

"You said you do not care about restoring the balance of magic and the real world. That is part of the reason you have been brought here."

"Why me?"

"All things will be revealed in time." the horned god made a rumbling sound deep in his massive chest, glancing at her clenched fists and the green eyes pinned on him. He began chuckling and then turned into genuine peals of laughter. "Ah, I had forgotten the impatient nature of mortals. I can see by the look in your eyes that it hardly a satisfactory answer. 

"Well, for your information it isn't, and don't find anything all funny about this situation."

"The reason you are here is because of the balance of magic and the real world is out of harmony, and you have tampered with that balance long enough."

"I haven't…" Willow sighed and realized that she would eventually have to pay for what she had done during his power trip of tapping into forces beyond her control, but she never imagined it would be like this. "Dispatched as I was to deal with you, Wicca, I took the time to make own observations and draw my own conclusions."

"You were sent to kill me?"

"Yes, but I have chosen not to do so. Walk this way," the horned god invited and shambled off in the direction where the enveloping fog was thickest. "Choices, right or wrong are more," he cocked his head to one side, thinking something through, "more ambivalent here."

Willow, without any better options hurried after him, finding that she did not have to run to keep up. The horned god set a steady pace, but not one that was too fast for her.

****

***

Elsewhere

There seemed to be no day or night in Limbo so Willow had no way to keep track of time. What the horned god had casually mentioned about how time ran differently here worried her, but not as much as whatever it she was expected to do here.

She could only barely see the path beneath her feet, it didn't actually fell like they were walking more as if they floated through the air. 

****

The strange, weightless flight came to an end. Willow landed on the floor of a room she vaguely recognized, although she was long past wondering she could be indoors now when she had been outside before. Deciding that logic played no part in Limbo, she gave her surroundings a 360 degree inspection. Willow felt her heart skip a beat when she recognized the figure sitting on the neatly made bed. It took her a few seconds to adjust her eyes from the darkness outside to the brightness of the indoors. She wiped her sweating palms on the front of her dress and stared at the familiar face. "Tara." she whispered, wanting to run forward and embrace her best friend. 

"Willow," Tara greeted, getting up from the bed and moving forward to where she stood at the threshold of the door. "I was wondering how long it would take you to get her. I was beginning to think you had given up on me."

**__**

"I would never give up on you," Willow sobbed. "You were dead. And it was all my fault. I tried to avenge your death and look how well that turned out."

"Exactly," Tara gave a grim shake of her head. "Why did you do it. How many times did I tell you that messing around with the magic like it was a pretty bauble would get you in trouble. If you care anything at all for me, you never would have taken another human life d using your powers."

Willow recoiled in hurt shock, this couldn't be Tara, it had to be some kind of hallucination conjured up by the spirits inhabiting this place. "Tara, I loved you. I would do anything to protect you, except when the bullet took your life, I couldn't think of anything except to hurt the people who had hurt you so terribly."

"There were other alternatives. You simply choose to ignore them and all the warnings I gave about using the magic." Why are you here? You didn't come to see me, to make it up to me."

"I was brought here," Willow replied, half-turning around to point out the horned god who had stood respectively silent throughout the entire exchange.

Tara, or her spirit nodded, "I see. Someone other power decided to intervene, to restore the magical balance. It's fitting, I suppose. you're being given choices, choices I was never offered. You're special, Willow. I guess we always knew that. I just hope, for your sake, that you make the right ones." and the image of Tara, the orderly bedroom and the house all melted away into the fog.

***

**__**

Later

"This is absurd! Take me back now!" Willow demanded, once they were back outdoors again.

**__**

"The encounter with the other Wican did not occur by happenstance. There are no coincidences in life."

"That was horrible, it had to be an illusion meant to trick me."

The Horned God shrugged, rolling his massive shoulders, "Believe what you will. I had nothing to do with what you saw and heard. My task is simply to guide you." 

"I have a choice. What if I make the wrong one?"

"Then you will be given your heart's desire. You will be reunited with your friend and you can spend eternity together in Limbo. Which road will you chose? Life or Death?"

"Of course, I want to live, but I want Tara back, too."

"That is not one of the options. Choose."

**__**

Willow rocked back on her heels, torn with indecision. Once Tara died she had felt as adrift as she was now. It was too soon and too sudden to forced into a position where shad had to make a decision about life and death. As much as she loved Tara and wanted her back among the living, instinctively she knew that it wasn't possible. She already upset the balance enough, how much more was she was willing to do, just for her own selfish reasons. She had told herself over and over that Tara was dead and there was nothing she or anyone else could do about. She already brought one person back from the dead, and looked how well that had turned out. Buffy had been a mere shell of herself for weeks before she eventually emerging and back to normal. Would bringing Tara back from the dead, be even worse. The words that Tara's spirit had hurled at her hurt like slivers of ice down her back. "Selfish!" she screamed in a back corner of her mind. "As much as I love Tara and want to be with her, I don't think I can stand spending eternity in this ghostly place. Aloud, proud that her voice didn't creak, she swallowed down her fear, and turned to confront the Horned God, "I've made my choice."

**__**

"Indeed." he replied, folding his arms across his massive chest. 

"Don't you want to know what it is? Or are you going to read my mind again?" Willow shouted. Not getting a rise out of him, she took another deep breath, and announced "I want to live."

"I though you might," the Horned God replied, not in the least disturbed by the accusing tone of her voice. "Regardless of which choice you made, bear in mind there are always consequences. You have chosen to live, but the cost will be high." Are you certain it is one you are willing to pay?"

"What the hell are you talking about?" Willow demanded.

"In order to live, you will have to give up your magic," the Horned God replied.

"I can't! I…." I didn't realize that choosing to live would mean losing my magic." Willow replied, falling to her knees on the spongy ground. 

****

He blinked a few times and then chanted an spell in Latin, and the next thing Willow knew, she stood on the tiled pathway of the cemetery, watching Xander, who stood in front of a willow tree, yelling at it.

Xander whirled around, seeing Willow appear out of nowhere. He nearly sobbed in relief and ran over to hug her. He stepped back a few paces glancing over to check for cuts, bruises, or other signs that she had been harmed in any way. Finding none, he sank down and sat with folded legs on the tiled pathway, exhausted.

Buffy and Orlando joined them a few moments later, demanding to know what had happened.

"Stop! I can't think!" Willow said, covering her ears with her hands.

"She is alive," Orlando remarked to the air in general. "Methoughts, the emissary would have done away with her by now."

Buffy whirled to confront him. "Shut up. Unless you have something useful to add," seeing his sickly grin, she took it for a negative, "I thought so. Good job on helping so far. When where you planning on tell me this was all a setup? After she was dead? Don't bother answering that. I don't want to hear it."

"Willow, are you all right?" Xander interrupted.

"Depends on your definition of 'all right." Willow sighed. "Don't worry about the Horned God, he never intended to hurt me, okay, he admitted that he sent to kill me, but he changed his mind. Instead, he took me to someplace called Limbo and served as my guide. Although, " she tilted her head to the side thinking it through, "It was maddeningly about how roundabout and evasive some of his answers were. Says its their nature, but all the same it was an annoying way to go about it."

The Horned God stood apart from them, and shrugged its massive shoulders in the same way he had down when she announced her choice.

Xander nudged himself nearer and lifted her right in his own, hurt and shock in his eyes when he felt how cold it felt. He absently began rubbing it to bring some warmth to her hand.

"What happened to you there? If it's not too difficult to talk about, that is."

"I meet Tara," Willow whispered. "We had words. We argued about stuff. I never imagined that it could hurt that much, just seeing her again. I mean, she's dead, but that spirit form felt just as real as if she had been flesh and blood again."

"Then what happened?" Buffy nodded encouragingly.

  
"Said I was there to restore the balance."

"We know that part," Buffy added, turning an icy glare on Orlando, then turned her attention back to Willow. 

"I had to make a choice, whether I wanted to live or die. If I chose to die," Willow sobbed, and wiped her nose with the back of her hand. "I could stay with Tara, except that I would be trapped in Limbo with her for eternity."

"Not much of a choice," Buffy remarked, thinking of the time she had spent in the afterlife, knowing it was selfish of her to wish to be sent back there.

"The other choice was if I wanted to life. He brought me back, except I had to pay a price. I had to give up my magic," Willow whispered.

"You mean, your magic is gone?" Buffy asked.

"Completely," Willow replied.

"Oh, Wil," Buffy sighed, and hugged her friend in a tight embrace. "It will get better, you'll see. It has to get better. It's not that you're any different now than you were when you still had your magic. You're still you and that's what matters right?"

"Right, I mean, I guess so. This is going to take some getting used to," Willow replied, returning the hug, trying to make out the look on her friend's face through her tears.

"Hey, Will," Xander added, tears shimmering in his eyes. "We're here for me. Remember that. And no matter what happens that will never change."

****

** END


End file.
